


Too Much Caf

by kyzyner



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Order 66, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Clone Centric, Crack Treated Seriously, F/F, F/M, Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon, Gen, M/M, Mando'a, Medical Experimentation, Multi, Other, Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Siblings, Recreational Drug Use, Space Swears, Trans Clones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 86,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22612258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyzyner/pseuds/kyzyner
Summary: Inspired by thistumblr postbyQuo_Usque:Cody had nine cups of coffee that morning, and was vibrating into the fourth dimension so he stopped listening after “execute order six-” order six, CANONICALLY, is “get rid of your communicator as fast as possible”. So that’s what Cody hears, and that’s what Cody relays to the GAR. So Palpatine executes his master stroke and six million clones just YEET their communicators and keep going about their business.
Relationships: 212th Attack Battalion & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody & Clone Troopers, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Clone Troopers & Clone Troopers (Star Wars), Original Clone Trooper Character(s) & Original Character(s)
Comments: 165
Kudos: 938





	1. Utapau System, 7958 C.R.C. / 19 BBY

**Author's Note:**

> Hover text for Mando'a translations (enable creator's style)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marshal Commander Cody of the Third Systems Army had been awake for 72 hours before losing count. He took yet another dose of stims when, even after nine cups of caf, he caught himself wondering why so many of the people around him looked the same. He ignored his medic’s defeated sigh and began repeating his name, rank, and designation over and over. He was going to be awake when they finally destroyed General Grievous.

In all honesty, Cody wouldn’t have minded if General Kenobi actually did destroy all the clankers before the 212th arrived. Feeling as though he was physically vibrating into the fourth dimension, the commander issued orders on autopilot. Next thing CC-2224 knew, he was rappelling down to the planet’s surface.

“This is fine,” CC-Cody Commander 2224 repeated. Wait, that wasn’t right. This was nothing like the simulations.

Watching the battle play out, Cody swore he could feel the exhilaration, the exhaustion, the pain, the focus, of every single trooper around him. Maybe this was how Jedi experienced battle. Absolutely thrilling. Cody punched a super battle droid right in the data processor and didn’t feel a thing.

Cody resolved right then and there that should he encounter General Grievous, he would be the one to destroy the cyborg with his bare hands. He would punch General Grievous in the face, and his stupid kaleesh mask would explode, and it would look so cool, and he would be promoted to space President, and-

Cody jumped nearly a full meter in the air, taken completely by surprise at the lightsaber landing beside him. Kenobi’s. Fascinating weapons, lightsabers. Kenobi claimed they were far superior to blasters, more civilized. Cody disagreed. He still maintained that it would be so karking _kandosii’la_ to use one.

Holding the hilt, Cody imagined igniting the blade and charging into battle, moving the weapon slowly in front of himself. He may or may not have made whooshing and thrumming noises muffled by his helmet but still very much audible over the battalion’s comms system. There was simply no way to know.

Clipping the saber to his belt as he had done 84 times since the start of the war, Cody looked around for Kenobi and came to the vaguely disappointing realization that it had been mere seconds since he had picked up his General’s lightsaber. Maybe his conscious mind had jumped to hyperspace and existed in a dimension and timescale completely disconnected from this tiny planetary battle.

Said tiny planetary battle eventually slowed, and Cody informed the Jedi Council that General Kenobi and his army were in active pursuit of Grievous. His words were forced and his position stiff, and he could not tell if he was actually standing as still as he was trying to. The world was spinning. Then again, weren’t all planets spinning? Didn’t all star systems rotate around the center of the galaxy, mirroring the motions of the smallest subatomic particles?

Body still electrified with restrained energy, the Commander began bouncing on his feet as several injured and weary soldiers looked on in amusement.

“Ugh, when is this war gonna be over?” he thought out loud. They were so close; so, so close.

Cody was 13 now, but all this waiting since landing on Utapau had surely aged him another 10 standard years. He had better things to do, like repeat the word _mirshepar’la_ until it lost all meaning. He could feel his brain cells dying one by one, like millions of tiny voices crying out in terror before they were suddenly silenced. He didn’t even register the sound of blaster fire all around and high above him. He only reacted instinctually, blazing through the battlefield even as his mind was engrossed in listing all the things he could do once this battle was over.

1) Rex owes me so many drinks.  
2) Recreational sky diving is apparently a thing?  
3) Food! I heard there are more kinds of food in the galaxy than there are civilized systems, which makes sense, because most sentients do not subsist exclusively on ration bars.  
4) _Fierfek_ I’m so hungry.  
5) And tired.  
6) Sleep! That’s a thing. Once this is over I’m going to sleep for 9 standard hours! No, 12!

The very concept of the last item on Cody’s growing bucket list had him tearing up with laughter. When he caught his breath, he noticed that his had been the only sound around. Everything else was silent, and he and his troopers were surrounded by dead droids.

Intelligence reported that General Grievous had been destroyed. Cody wished he’d been there to see it, but Kenobi could tell him later. He was always such a good storyteller.

“So that’s it then?” Cody could hear the exhaustion in Paak’s voice. “The war’s over?”

Unfortunately, the war was not over. Despite the destruction of their leaders, the droid army pressed on. Assisted by the native pau’an warriors, the clones pressed back. There was no sign of General Kenobi.

Palming the lightsaber still on his belt, Cody had the brilliant idea to try contacting the General. He was still startled out of his blacks when his holocomm chimed as he was reaching for it.

The hologram looked like a tiny monk, but it wasn’t Kenobi.

“I’m high as kark,” Cody laughed to himself as he answered the comm.

“Commander Cody.”

That was him. He was the commander. Said commander stood straighter as the tiny monk continued speaking. He had a familiar voice, it almost sounded like the Supreme Chancellor…but Chancellor Palpatine didn’t wear Jedi robes. Maybe he’d had a makeover.

“Execute Order 66.”

If he was issuing orders, he probably was the Supreme Chancellor. Not wanting to embarrass himself by revealing that he had not been listening, Cody simply replied, “Yes, my Lord,” and promptly disconnected.

If the Chancellor was wearing Jedi robes, did that mean he had Jedi powers now? Could he see right through Cody’s feigned professionalism? No, that didn’t make sense. What had he said? Order six?

Having practically invented clone protocol, Cody’s encyclopedic mind identified order six as the contingency order to immediately dispose of or destroy all communications devices. Perhaps there had been a security breach? Was that why he had heard nothing from General Kenobi?

“Attention, this is command.” The troopers around him straightened upon hearing Cody’s duplicated voice. “Contingency order number six is now in effect.”

Cody was calm. He always felt so normal reciting protocols and regulations. As an added courtesy to the Supreme Chancellor, Cody went ahead and relayed the same message to every trooper under his command. He then removed his wrist comm, long range antennas, holocomm, and secret direct link to Rex, code named “hey nerd you won’t believe what _osik_ my general pulled today,” and tossed all into the sinkhole as the others around him did the same. His job here was done.

Across the galaxy, from Cato Neimoidia to Coruscant, all 294,912 members of the Third Systems Army promptly ditched their comms. With long-range communications shut down, it wasn’t long before they realized they’d have to talk to each other like normal sentients as battles raged on. Scattered throughout the outer rim, some troopers looked out to the stars and wondered when they’d hear from those stationed in other systems, and pondered the fact that data transmissions through hyperspace traveled faster than starships for some reason. Others laid down their weapons and played cards instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on Names
> 
> Paak - Mando'a for salt, he salty AF


	2. Pau City, Utapau, 7958 C.R.C. / 19 BBY

The battle of Utapau was over within the rotation, a decisive victory against the Separatist Army. Holed up on the landing platforms, the surviving troopers recovered from the battle and waited. Having given orders to wake him should General Kenobi make contact, Cody had retreated into one of the gunships and passed out on the floor. 

The droid armies were gone, yet no confirmation came that the war was over. With the Grand Army’s long-range communications grid wiped out, any light speed transmissions would take weeks to reach the nearest Republic cell. It would have been faster to send live messengers with news from Coruscant, yet none came. If the war had ended, surely at least that news would be accessible on the holonet. Idi’jil thought this all very suspicious as he went over all the data compiled since the last battle, stirring caf in his upturned helmet all the while. 

Cody awoke disoriented and in terrible pain. Stumbling out of the gunship and cursing the horrible bright thing in the sky, he was approached by a _vod_ whose name he could not bring himself to remember. Said trooper offered him a cup of caf in absolute silence. Cody was proud. He had trained them well. 

“Sitrep,” Cody grumbled once he had finished the caf and regained some semblance of being human.

“General Kenobi is MIA,” Idi’jil stated in a considerately soft voice as he handed his datapad to Cody. 

Cody reached for the datapad with the hand not holding his caf, and nearly dropped it when his wrist seized up in pain and refused to cooperate. 

“Oh, and Sarad gave me orders to bring you to medbay.”

Thankful for their help in freeing their planet from occupation, the pau’ans all but demanded that the clones take advantage of their hospitality. This meant proper medical facilities, where Cody was currently imprisoned. His own medics had sentenced him to three weeks of bedrest on charges of “being a _di'kut_ and overworking himself to the point of needing so many stims that he did not notice breaking six kriffing bones,” to quote Sarad. 

In addition to medical assistance, each trooper was allowed a room to themself, a concept altogether foreign to the _vode_ who had done everything together since birth. Despite their unfamiliarity with humans, the Utapauans went out of their way to assist the clones and generally treated them as full sentients. They had even invited the clones to honor the fallen alongside their own. Cody decided these people were alright.

The uninjured clones were mostly left to their own devices with Cody incapacitated and unavailable to slap sense into anyone who stepped out of line. In the weeks following the final battle, Cody’s people had efficiently secured “temporary” lodging and jobs. Nobody actually expected the clones to leave any time soon. Some worked as ship mechanics and were able to glean more information from star pilots on the happenings in the galaxy than those like Cody, who obsessively combed the frequencies. Something about the reorganization of the GAR, rumors of the Supreme Chancellor’s arrest, various reports of outer rim skirmishes. Every day the _vode_ found new and creative ways to not quite break regulations. 

“ _Haar’chak,_ why do you even bother with these requests?” Cody grumbled from his bed as four snickering _vode_ tried to hide behind one another.

“You’re the one who insists we’re still on duty. Sir. It would be against regulation to proceed without your approval.” This guy. Magic almost sounded sincere.

“Indeed. Which means, as your commanding officer, I could have you all written up for insubordination.”

“And who would you report us to? The General? He could be dead for all we know.” Cody did not like the tone of Sen’s voice. He subconsciously reached towards the lightsaber that he still kept on his person.

“Request denied. Everyone out.”

Cody was stubborn, but the war was well and truly over as far as anyone could tell. What were soldiers bred for war supposed to do without war?

“Whatever you want,” was the answer Wooley received when he voiced his insecurities to the utai he worked with. 

The Utapauans asserted that with the war over, the clones were no longer soldiers. They were therefore free to spend their lives as they wished. The ancients in particular pointed out that they were barely more than children, and that they should explore and learn and experience all the galaxy had to offer while they were still young. While they were mature by any human standards, it was true that not one of them had experienced a normal childhood. There was plenty they had missed out on, plenty they were just now discovering. 

“What’s something you’ve always wanted to do?” Roller asked Dev one strangely clear night as they lay stargazing inside the sinkhole.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have parents, or like, a mother, I mean…” Dev trailed off, imagining his batchmate doing his famous full-body eye roll at the sentimentality like he usually did. 

Roller surprised him by almost taking him seriously. 

“Damn, I was gonna say I want to explore other planets during peacetime, as a tourist. I wonder, though, d’you think it’s against regulation to find someone to adopt you?”

There was nothing in the manuals about adoption by civilians during peacetime. Having already written down all existing protocols and regulations from memory, Cody had resorted to making up new ones in a desperate bid to retain his sanity. The batchmates were in luck.

Dev presented their case as follows: clones were taught to always assess the situation, take stock of resources and complete the mission. Right now, their mission was to survive, (yes, Cody, for the purpose of awaiting further orders) and their current greatest threat to survival was lack of mental stimulation and stable emotional support. Adoption by a native would make them citizens, entitled to work and a suitable environment for the development of their mental and emotional capacities. They made a compelling argument, Cody thought, half considering going through with this just to see what would happen. 

“Kriff it, it’s regulation now. #6024: Roller and Dev want parents so they can seek willing sentients to adopt them if they so desire.”

That was the most excitement Cody had had all week. Hearing that their commander had gone soft, more and more _vode_ came to him with ridiculous requests.

“Yes, you can start a bakery, just share with me. Yes, you can open a nursery for potentially deadly wild dactillions, just be careful. Cave diving? Why not. Yes, you can- wait no that’s illegal. Stop wasting my time I have actual work to do.”

Cody was indeed very busy counting down the minutes until he would be released from medbay.

Roller and Dev eventually got their wish. Even better, instead of one mom, they got two. Upon hearing about the conditions on Kamino where the young clones were raised, Vo and Kiilu had both gone into hyper mom mode and officially adopted the entire 212th. The utai women absolutely spoiled any _vod_ who wanted to visit, or just move in rent-free. Cody didn’t complain that much. Now that they were Utapauan citizens and legally civilians, he no longer had to put up with _vode_ coming to him with straight-up illegal requests just to see how much it would take before he stopped caring. The local police could handle that. 

“You don’t have to run this through me, I’m not your CO anymore,” he would say.

“But you are our _ori’vod,_” hummed Magic in his ridiculous sing-song voice.

“Just because you can’t court martial us for breaking regs doesn’t mean you wouldn’t care if we karked up, right, _ori’vod_?” Turbo echoed Magic, big brown eyes wide and pleading.

Of course they were right. He loved those idiots. 

Once he was cleared for normal physical activity, Cody spent another three weeks talking himself into doing the one thing he had always dreamed of. He was alone, feeling far too naked without his armor, Kenobi’s lightsaber in hand. He ignited the blue plasma blade and gave a few test swings. He never went back to blasters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on Names:
> 
> Idi'jil - from _onidir_ , to sweat/to labor, and _kajil_ , flat/level: he was always studious with steady focus, especially when it involved things the Kaminoans didn't want him learning about
> 
> Sarad - Mando'a for flower/blossom: as a field medic he was always studying and collecting medicinal plants
> 
> Magic - got away with practically anything back on Kamino, his batchmates insisted he must be magic
> 
> Sen - roughly translates as 'wings,' from _me'sen_ (starship), _senarr_ (bird); also a reference to _Usen' ye_ (go away, very rude): a skilled pilot if a bit of a loner
> 
> Roller - rolled his eyes so often that the Kaminoans insisted they would get stuck like that, Roller took that as a challenge and hasn't gotten stuck yet
> 
> Dev - honestly just thought it sounded cool, didn't realize the abbreviation for 'deviant' could mean anything bad
> 
> Turbo - hyperactive, thinks it's hilarious to claim his name is actually short for turboslut


	3. Utapau, 7961 C.R.C. / 16 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmm yes who wants some feels

Within three years, Cody had completed most of the items on his original bucket list. He had learned to wrangle and ride dactillions, and even to skydive from the windswept surface with their aid. He became a connoisseur of all kinds of Utapauan cuisine, even the raw meat. Most of the former soldiers regularly slept through the night now, and experienced things they had never before imagined. 

Cody watched with pride and amazement as his _vode_ recovered, reclaimed, and reinvented themselves. For the first time in his life, he felt safe in the knowledge that these people could survive without him. As business owners, archaeologists, mechanics, poets, linguists, and parents, clones made valuable and lasting marks on Utapauan society. Six of the _vode_ , including Dev, came out as transgender. Although many medical aspects of transition were trial and error due to not being designed for humans, Cody had to admit, science was incredible. He had seen medicine all but bring brothers back from the dead, and now he was witnessing sisters coming to life as well. Thanks to those who had started families, Cody was now _ba’vodu_ to a small army of children of various ages, species and origins. It made him feel old. He was chronologically only 16, but may as well have been 100. The accelerated aging was becoming more apparent. 

Having to contend with their new status as civilians left no room for the _vode_ to deny that they had all been slaves to the Republic. Cody didn’t want to be angry, but he was. Kenobi had always treated him as an equal, hadn’t he? Cody even considered the Jedi a friend. Many _vode_ did not share that same sentiment. Cody had to admit they were entitled to their views as he came to realize that Kenobi had never treated the others like he had treated his second in command. Even now, his job was to protect the _vode_ , and he would always take their side. 

Their adoptive mothers taught them how to cope with the multitude of new uncertainties in their lives. Not only did Vo always listen, she was easy to talk to. Her personal understanding of things like servitude and trauma was very similar to how most clones thought. Like the clones, the utai were generally considered a servile race, expected to do anything asked of them: a view Vo had once held herself. 

Conflicted with their struggle in adapting to freedom, some _vode_ turned to impulsive and illegal activities. If only Cody hadn’t given up his duty to both protect and punish his own, if only he’d watched over and controlled all 55 of them better, they wouldn’t be at the mercy of the authorities. Busy ruminating in his old habits of overprotectiveness and self-blame, Cody was not there when Sen was arrested for participating in underground fighting rings. It was Vo and Kiilu who bailed him out of jail, who listened to him and gave name to his fears so they could be understood and conquered, who loved Cody when, for his failure, he could not love himself. 

Freed from prison, Sen only felt bitterness. Wasn’t this freedom what he was supposed to want? Maybe he was better off blindly following orders, it’s what he was made for after all. When he voiced these thoughts to his own family, they reacted with anger and shock. Sen hadn’t been on Umbara.

Vo found him alone, crying angry, silent tears.

“They don’t understand. Why don’t they understand?”

“I understand.”

Sen’s look was almost accusatory. How could she know of his struggle?

“My son, you are not alone. We utai are much like you clones. We are obedient and dutiful by nature, and I do not say that because that is what others expect of us. It is simply who we are, and we are not wrong for it. Tell me, how can it be your fault that you were designed this way?”

Sen could not answer.

“You do not wish to believe you were a slave. Serving the Republic never felt wrong to you, did it? From what you have told me, it sounds like you served willingly.”

He had. He had done so with pride.

“That pride is your own. It does not belong to the Republic or to the ones who created you, even if you are connected to both. However, I do believe the connection you had to the Republic and to the Kaminoans was one of slavery. I know it hurts you to consider it, but you must know in your heart that neither cared for you as I do, or as your siblings do.

“I want you to know that you can have the kind of connection with others that you are accustomed to, that you are comfortable with, without being a slave. You see, you are only a slave if your connection to others is not reciprocated. Consider the way things work here, many outsiders consider us slaves and the pau’ans masters. That is not how we are connected. We reciprocate, so we are symbionts, and all are better off for it.”

Sen still felt torn up inside, but this new wisdom had given his broken pieces a certain weight so that they were no longer whisked out of his control by his every passing emotion. He could keep going. He could share what he now knew with his _vode_ , his symbionts, the ones who had always been there with him.

Figuring they only had so many years left, Sen, Cody and some of the others pooled their money and bought a spaceworthy transport, intending to explore other worlds and find out what had happened to the _vode_ in other systems since losing contact. Rex still owed Cody like 16 drinks, after all. Cody wondered if the poor _or'dinii_ was still dealing with Skywalker’s _osik_. In honor of General Obi-Wan “Secretly A Party Animal” Kenobi, the crew of the newly named starship _Jate’kara_ unanimously decided their first destination would be Zeltros.


	4. Gactimus, 7961 C.R.C. / 16 BBY

The journey to the Inner Rim was far more eventful than expected. After a series of short jumps out of the Utapau system, the starship took the minor hyperspace lanes until it was stopped at the customs checkpoint on the Triton moon of Gactimus. They had no contraband, Cody had made sure of it. Besides, they could get plenty of stimulants once they reached Zeltros. What none of them had counted on was the fact that a traveling group of 18 people with identical faces was apparently cause for suspicion. Republic forces had battled for this system not four standard years ago, had these beings truly never encountered clones before? Perhaps they didn’t realize that the soldiers of the last war were identical beneath their armor, too?

Cody became more and more uneasy the longer they stayed. He couldn’t figure out why they were being kept, as it was obvious that smugglers and outlaws used this station with no questions asked. Perhaps the tritonite enforcers were bribable? Noting the lack of military presence, Republic or Separatist, Cody sent Magic to trade whatever he could for money or information while the rest of the crew waited on board. 

Despite being relatively close to the Utapau system, Utapauan currency was useless here. They really had been isolated. Scouting for potential trade opportunities, Magic fell back on his fail-safe: the “What Would Kenobi Do” protocol. Making good use of smooth-talking learned from years of imitating his general, he was able to trade 16 GAR ration bars, utterly inedible “authentic Clone Wars artifacts,” for “Imperial credits” of undetermined value. 

Magic returned, but he was followed. Several humanoid figures now surrounded the ship. Not the native enforcers, then. They clearly had nothing of value, save the ship, and there were plenty of ships available for pirates to appropriate, so they were probably not targets for thievery. Perhaps word had spread of who and what they were, and their presence was unwelcome on the formerly Separatist-controlled spaceport. After switching clothes with Magic, Cody ventured outside to find the customs official, hoping to speed things up. 

The insectoid customs inspector found him first. Accompanied by a translator droid and newly dressed in something that reminded Cody of holos he’d seen of Dathomir witches, their arrival seemed to repel Cody’s unwanted entourage.

“I have come to collect tribute for the great and wise Gactimus,” the droid spoke on the tritonite’s behalf.

The moon itself demanded tribute? That was new. Cody offered up his stash of Utapauan currency and Imperial credits. Perhaps bribery was the answer.

“This is everything I have.”

The tritonite seemed to consider this for a moment, then produced some sort of flimsi from their robes and offered it with four hands. 

“Please find enlightenment in the teachings of Gactimus as you go on your way.”

A religious pamphlet. Cody took it with genuine curiosity and thanked the being before turning to leave at last. He was stopped by a long, spindly arm reaching over his shoulder. 

“Go now, far from Eraidu, clone,” they spoke in broken basic. 

Cody acknowledged the warning with a nod and continued to the ship.

“Sen, fire up the engines and get us in orbit,” Cody ordered, with an urgency in his voice that none had heard since the battle of Utapau. 

“Sir, yes, sir,” Sen responded automatically. What could have the famously stoic Cody so rattled?

“Patch us into the planetary data hub, I want a full report on Eraidu. Environmental disaster, epidemics, civil war, invasion, anything that would indicate hostility towards clones.”

“That’s a tall order, sir,” Boil joked upon seeing the steep fees required to upgrade the service to something that might actually connect to the holonet.

“Shut up and get to work.”

Cody was serious, then.

According to the navigations database, Eraidu was under Imperial rule. 

“What Empire?” Lark voiced the question of everyone on deck.

“I don’t know, but from what I can tell, it’s not safe for clones. I was warned to avoid it. I am willing to fight my way through, though I can’t speak for the rest of you, and in any case with what little we know there is no way to better our odds.”

“It’s your call, _vod_. There are other routes, they’ll just involve more pit-stops.”

Cody thought for a moment.

“Sen, what’s the nearest smuggler’s den?”

“Kabal, sir,” Sen replied cheerily, accompanied by laughter from the _vode_. “Are we smugglers now?”

“Call me overly cautious, but we have no idea what happened to the Republic presence here on Triton. If there is some anti-clone Empire at large in this sector, I suggest we avoid detection and move on. So, yes, we are posing as smugglers.”

“Smugglers without contraband,” Paak mused, interrupting Cody. Cody ignored him.

“Planetside, no more than three people leave the ship at a time without disguises. We use aliases and pose as the same three brothers. We don’t need to draw any more attention.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Paak grumbled. They were supposed to be on vacation.

“Alright, _vod_ ,” Sen nearly shouted to clear the tension, “setting a course for Kabal!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on Names:
> 
> Lark - has a great singing voice


	5. Kabal, 7961 C.R.C. / 16 BBY

The clones had all sorts of fun on Kabal, impersonating each other, learning lewd shanties from the spacers, and generally causing Cody to go gray. Were command track clones the only ones taught common sense? The Kaminoans hadn’t even needed to accelerate his growth, he would have aged prematurely without it. 

Cody had spent the past four rotations on board with his sisters. Lark, Mey and Nau’ur had not been keen on playing male roles, and Nau’ur was unwilling to cut her long hair for a disguise. Cody didn’t blame her. Meanwhile, the rest of the _vode_ swapped places, filling the roles of the human triplets they had been using as aliases. By now, the antics of their brothers in the field were more worrisome than entertaining, and they were beginning to go stir-crazy.

If the others couldn’t take this fuel run seriously, Cody would. Mey had expertly covered his scar with synthflesh-like makeup, and Cody was currently playing the character of Korr Yos as he waited for his contact. 

“Heya, handsome.” Cody took a moment to realize the gilliand was addressing him. “What’s got you so high-strung today? Did your brother actually go and change your legal name to Turboslut?”

Right. Turbo had mentioned something of that nature. This was definitely the contact, then. Ignoring her comment, Cody got straight to business.

“Where can I get hyperfuel without Imperial credits?”

“What, are you broke all of a sudden? After bragging so big about your winnings yesterday?” the woman laughed. 

Cody stared her down, despite her being considerably taller than him.

“Alright, alright, be that way. You know, just when I thought we could have something special. Anyways, you wanna avoid the Imps, I get it. Go find Casaalan, I’m sure you two could arrange some sort of trade…Turboslut.”

Cody groaned. The _vode_ were getting sloppy. If they were going to get up to these kinds of shenanigans, they had best start reporting the details properly or this charade would fall apart. 

Casaalan, as it turned out, was a clone. How his contact from earlier had not put that together, Cody did not know. Perhaps all humans looked the same to her. 

“I need fuel, and I have weapons, rations and manual labor to trade for it,” Cody stated.

Casaalan only smirked knowingly, remaining silent and pretending to work on something until Cody harshly cleared his throat.

“Haven’t seen many of us in a while.” Casaalan spoke with a heavy Concord Dawn accent, and the way his voice cracked suggested lack of use or strong emotion. “Where you headed?”

“Depends. What do I get for telling you?” Cody said, channeling Kenobi.

“Mir’sheb’ika,” the clone chucked. 

Cody barely had anything to bargain with, and though Casaalan was not particularly talkative, Cody was already analyzing his words.

“Are you a deserter?”

“Mm…why d’you ask?”

“What’s a clone doing without a squad, working a civvie job on a significant spaceport in Separatist space?”

“War’s over, _vod_. War’s been over,” Casaalan sighed with an empty look in his eyes. Cody was only slightly more inclined to believe it coming from a clone.

“Your commanding officer confirmed this?”

“You don’t know, do you,” Casaalan deadpanned. He swallowed hard and continued. “You ever hear what happened on Umbara?”

“I was there.”

Casaalan swore under his breath. “It was like that. They turned us against each other. I killed my commanding officer when we received the order. They're gone, there's nothing left to fight for.”

Cody went pale. Rex had warned him about this. “What happened to your squad?”

“Dead. I- once I realized what I’d done, I ran. Turns out I escaped both the Jedi and the Empire that way. They haven’t come for me yet.” Cody couldn’t miss the look of utter loss in Casaalan’s eyes, even as he finished with a smirk.

“What is this Empire?”

“Far as I can tell, it’s some splinter faction of the Republic that absorbed half the GAR when the Jedi order was dissolved. Nothing like the Republic we fought for, though. To the Empire, we’re just expendable enforcers, ones who don’t even deserve retirement when we fall apart,” he motioned to his bad leg. “It doesn’t make sense to me. After everything we fought for, why would brothers turn around and undo it?”

Cody was doing an excellent job of masking his growing panic, processing the information about this new threat as half his brain screamed, “what the kriff?” He had to find Rex.

“Is Zeltros safe?”

“Hah, yeah, every invasion there ever has failed. No living army can resist the party pheromones. Wonder why the Seppies never tried anything there, their army was all droids.”

Cody only half-listened as he considered the best way to spin his proposal. Leaving Casaalan here with what he knew now was a potential liability, not to mention that he and his crew could very much stand to have Casaalan's knowledge on current galactic affairs. 

“I’d like to see it someday,” Casaalan continued. There it was.

“Come with us,” Cody said, far too eagerly.

“Pfft, now? And leave this lucrative business behind?” He vaguely gestured to the scrap heaps and fuel tanks that all but formed a cave around them. Cody couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

“You’re not safe here,” Cody urged.

“And when have we ever been safe?”

Cody groaned. He was getting impatient. 

“What’s stopping you?”

“Well, I just met you. I don’t even know who you are.”

“The name’s Cody.”

“As in, Commander Cody?” Cody nodded. “Everyone thought you were dead.” Made sense.

“Well, seems you know who I am, now who are you?”

“Eh, I was never famous. Convince me to join your crew and prove you’re the real Commander Cody and maybe you’ll find out who I am for yourself.”

They had the same face. Cody knew Casaalan’s expression was full of hope and longing. Why he was making this complicated, Cody did not have the patience to figure out. He needed more charisma, and so he broke his own rule and summoned Lark, Turbo and Magic to the workshop. The meeting began with no shortage of their mockery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on Names:
> 
> Mey - derived from _mesh'la_ , beautiful
> 
> Nau'ur - Mando'a, to illuminate
> 
> Casaalan - a name picked up on Arkanis after the end of the war


	6. Mid Rim, Aboard the Jate’kara, 7961 C.R.C. / 16 BBY

It wasn’t actually that hard to get Casaalan aboard. Tasked with helping Cody prove his identity, the siblings had launched into the most absurd retellings of Cody’s most embarrassing missions with General Kenobi. Speaking of whom, Cody still had his lightsaber. Casaalan had considered that proof enough, and he was lonelier on Kabal than he would ever admit. His only real reason for staying on Kabal so long was that his position allowed him to strike small victories against the Empire that had robbed so many _vode_ of a chance to retire. Promising that they would continue to strike against the Empire wherever they could, the crew of the _Jate’kara_ gained another member. Another _vod_.

Cas had nightmares. For him, the dreams where they turned against the Jedi, their leaders and friends, had become reality. They all wanted to help him heal, and so they talked about the dreams. The more they talked, the more they realized that dreams about The Mission were not isolated, and had been there since before they left Kamino or even met a Jedi. Suspicious, Idi’jil said, but he thought everything was suspicious. 

“No, listen, _vod_ , there’s no genetic basis for shared dreams. They come from lived experience, but none of us could have had that from birth and on such a large scale, unless it was some kind of brainwashing or implanted memory,” Idi’jil explained lucidly. 

Cody usually had no patience for conspiracy theories. He hadn’t even taken Rex seriously at first when he had come to Cody with concerns about the exact same thing. _Fierfek_ , what if Fives had been right all along? Cody clutched his head in his hands and focused on steadying his breathing. His head, which probably had a chip in it.

“What is he doing?” 

“He’s doing that denial thing. It’s why he’s such a good liar, he lies to himself every day,” Boil explained casually, as if Cody wasn’t right there.

“I don’t do a denial thing,” Cody grumbled.

“Case in point,” Boil teased, even as he brought Cody a datapad and some caf. 

Research was how he coped. Holed up in a corner of the cabin, the others knew to give him space as he followed every thread from what Rex had told him.

With Casaalan’s generous donation of fuel, Cody had plenty of time in hyperspace as the _Jate’kara_ bypassed Eraidu on a direct course for Darkknell, where they could start their run on the Hydian Way as originally intended. While Cody considered himself a fairly competent slicer, it was clear he would need help with this. Everything about ARC trooper Fives had been neatly purged from public record, hidden behind censors designed to look like they didn’t even exist. Even more interesting, the archives on the Clone Wars held no information about Anakin Skywalker. Could the public memory really be swayed so easily?

Accepting that he would have to explain all this to the _vode_ sooner or later, Cody emerged from his self-imposed exile to share his findings. Ever eager to bust open a conspiracy theory, Idi’jil dove right in, assisted by the fantastic teamwork of Nerra and Turbo. Confident that the gibberish they were using to communicate qualified them as better slicers than himself, Cody left them to their work, only to be summoned by a very nervous Casaalan.

“What is it, _vod_?” Cody said in his Commander Voice, falling immediately into the practiced role of the trustworthy and fiercely competent leader.

“This is about order 66, right?” Casaalan croaked, once safely out of the main cabin with Cody’s unshakeable resolve to lean on.

“What?” Cody hadn’t said anything about order 66. Immediately regretting his choice of words, Cody attempted to scramble backwards in time to comfort his clearly distressed _vod_ , even as his mind raced forward. Order 66. It made sense.

“Hold on, Cas, are you saying order 66 was issued?” Cody’s tone made it clear that there was no joke in his question.

“Yes.” Cas was shaking. 

Cody gently gripped his forearm to steady him, in something like a one-sided Mandalorian handshake.

“That helps me more than you know, thank you for telling me. And yes, I think you might be right.” 

Sensing an oncoming panic attack, Cody had been walking them to the medbay, where he commed for Sarad. 

“I will greatly appreciate anything else you can tell me, but for now you need R&R. Sarad will get you anything you need. I’m going to check on the others, just take it easy, _vod_.” Cody nodded at Sarad as he left. Both of them knew from experience that no clone was immune to stress.

If what Cody suspected was true, they had to call home before they reverted from hyperspace.

So far, the holonet investigation into Fives’ death had turned up nothing of note besides a mention of senators Organa and Amidala. That might be something to look into later, but for now Cody ordered an end to the search and began preparations to contact Utapau.

“Sen, how long until we revert?” Cody asked, without explaining anything.

“Roughly four standard hours, why?”

“Maintain current trajectory. Get me a secure link home. Is everyone here? You all need to listen carefully, and be ready to brief Cas and Sarad.”

Everyone gathered around the holotable expectantly. Asking Cody to explain now would just slow things down at this point.

“I have confirmation from Cas that the war ended shortly after order 66 was issued.” He gave them time to react, and confused, expectant silence was not the response he was hoping for. Then again, they didn’t know what he knew.

“I have reason to believe that those like Cas who executed the order did so under the control of a neurological implant,” Cody explained, apparently having lost his mind. Who was this man spouting conspiracy theories, and what had he done with the commander? Idi’jil was practically bouncing in his chair. 

“The fastest way to confirm this theory is to contact the _vode_ on Utapau and have them scan for implants, but this is highly confidential so we must send an untraceable message from hyperspace.”

“But, without reverting to realspace we have no way of telling what time of day it is on their side of the planet-”

“Shut up, Lark, can’t you see this is kind of an emergency?”

“Best warn them about the Empire, too.”

“Where’s Cas? We should introduce him.”

Cody was mostly ignoring them, until Boil pulled his hands away from the controls.

“Hey. Best get any kids out of the room before you say anything. Don’t need to scare them.”

Cody nodded, heart warmed by his brother’s consideration.

Lark’s worries were not unfounded, for their call was picked up by an exhausted looking _vod_ in a dark room. From the way he was attempting to feed a fussing infant, they had probably not been the ones to wake him. 

“Cody?”

“Hi, Mak. Listen, this is urgent,” 

Cody was cut off by his siblings crowding around the holotable and fawning over the newest and first biologically related addition to their family. Sarad and Cas chose this moment to rejoin the chaos that normally was the main cabin. 

Casaalan’s expression was one of awe as the proud young father in the hologram was bombarded with questions.

“What’s their name?”  
“When were they born?”  
“How’s Prana?”

“This is Parjai,” Mak replied, adjusting the little one so they could get a better look.

“I-is that?” Cas asked Sarad, utterly fascinated by the infant with the same eyes and hair as the _vode_.

“Yeah.”

“I thought we were sterile?” Cas asked, suddenly perfectly audible over the hush that had fallen over those present.

“ _Parjai! Mhi r'rohakar n’gotenir!_” Mak cheered, holding the child above his head.

“ _Shut up,_ ” came the swift reply from his end. That would be Prana.

“We’re happy for you, _vod_ ,” Cody said, chuckling. “We have a lot to discuss, though. I need you to gather as many _vode_ as you can, I have urgent and confidential information you all need to hear.”

“’S the middle of the night,” Mak groaned, “At least let me put this one to sleep first.”

Seething was one word to describe Cody as he watched the holo of his younger brother soothe his child to sleep. It was adorable, yes, but he did not have time for this. Sen politely reminded him that he could adjust their course at any time.

“I think he’s just jealous ‘cos he doesn’t have kids,” Boil whispered as they waited.

“All right, what do you need me to do?” Mak looked to be falling asleep on his feet.

Cody leapt into action, repeating his earlier orders. Mak winced and turned down the volume.

Mak was able to summon six brothers with his short-range comm, and they met in one of the apartments they had collectively repurposed as a storage room. Surrounded by armor and weapons, they instinctively stood at attention when Cody’s image was projected into the room. Good. He needed them serious.

“We’ve discovered how the war ended. The Chancellor issued order 66, declaring all Jedi as traitors to the Republic and subject to immediate execution. However, the message didn’t reach everyone in the GAR. The result was the dissolution of the Jedi Order and the emergence of an Imperial faction of the Republic, which we have found to be active in the Outer Rim and hostile to clones.

“Additionally, I believe that those who did execute order 66 did not do so of their own volition, but under the influence of some kind of biological control implant. I need you to ascertain whether or not you have such implants, that could be the evidence I need.”

Everyone was silent.

“Also, we’re doing great out here, we found another _vod_ , his name is Casaalan. Please be safe, we love you all, say hi to _Kii’buir_ and _Vo'buir_ for me,” Boil added cheerfully.

“You will report back to me as soon as you have any relevant information. Any questions?”

“Sir? We never received order 66, was that-”

Cody ended the transmission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on Names: 
> 
> Mak - short for _mackineek_ , Gunganese for droid: was once confused for a droid on Naboo and thought it was funny, the name stuck
> 
> Parjai - Mando'a for victory


	7. Denon System, 7961 C.R.C. / 16 BBY

Cody was ignoring the _vode_ again, despite their perfectly valid questions and correct assumptions regarding that day on Utapau. Cody denied everything, as if they hadn’t been there, as if they hadn’t seen and heard him give order six. As if he was ashamed that his mistake had saved all of them that day, and possibly countless others. 

They had arrived in the Denon system, relieved at having successfully bypassed Eraidu. The last long stretch of their jump had provided plenty of time for research, which had revealed that Eraidu was not only the planetary stronghold of the Empire in the Outer Rim, but the homeworld of a certain Wilhuff Tarkin. 

“Ugh, I hate that guy,” said Paak, who hadn’t even been on the citadel mission. 

Cody would soon learn that Captain Tarkin’s mistreatment of clone soldiers was far more widespread than he had assumed. 

“He disregarded all our claims to identity, even disrespected the Jedi,” Ukid spoke bitterly.

“Remember Tano’s trial? He wasn’t even ashamed to claim, on record, that deaths within the Coruscant guard amounted only to damage of military property,” Onoff spat, attempting to one-up his brother.

They wouldn’t have had a good time on Eraidu, Cody thought, and was glad that someone was looking out for them. Whatever or whoever Gactimus was, he hoped it would bestow fortune and protection on the tritonite customs official who had given him the warning.

The competition on who had the best dirt on Tarkin soon grew stale, and the group focus was back to Cody’s obvious obfuscation of what had happened the day the war ended. He sent the most talkative of them on a standard fuel and supply run and resigned himself to his fate of being trapped on board with the rest. 

“Cody,” Lark sang as she and Boil dogpiled him in his chair, ensuring he could not flee. “We deserve to know.”

“You already know,” Cody said, refusing to look any of them in the eye.

“I don’t get why you’re so ashamed. You saved our lives. We have a family, a life beyond war, a kriffing starship, all because of you,” Paak expressed with an unusual amount of emotion.

Of course they had picked up on his shame. They could read his face as easily as he could read theirs. Therefore, he did not need to speak for them to know that he was afraid. It was in the furrow of his brow and the twitch of his lips, an expression they had all shared since childhood: something very precious to him was threatened.

It wasn’t that he had disobeyed orders, even unintentionally. That hardly mattered now. It was the realization that, when it mattered most, he had only protected them by accident. Even now, his control over his situation, his very personhood, was precarious, and none of them were taking it seriously.

The silence in the cabin was broken by the chime of the holotable. 

“Encrypt our connection,” Cody ordered, and answered.

Mak was there, as were about 10 others, all looking like they hadn’t slept.

“Uh…you were right, _vod_ ,” Mak began, “The chips. We all have them.”

That was quick. Cody was almost relieved. This, he could handle.

“I want all of you to have them removed as soon as you can safely do so. Surgical extraction by a medical droid has been so far successful.”

Nervous glances and a thousand questions were exchanged on both ends. 

“Er-what are they? Why do we need them out?” Ruusaan asked.

“I only know that they are designed to control our behavior and potentially force us to follow any order. Degeneracy of the implant due to unknown causes has in the past resulted in and incident of unprovoked lethal force against a Jedi, though the trooper in question had no memory of his actions. We could all be dangers to the public and those closest to us as long as our self control can be switched off.”

That was convincing enough. The transmission ended and the crew was once again left in silence. That is, until someone’s stomach grumbled. As they began to get up and organize a meal, Cody addressed them again.

“That goes for all of us too.”

“Yay, mandatory brain surgery,” came Paak’s sarcastic remark.

“It’s just, none of us are surgeons,” Sarad pointed out.

“It’s a big planet. I’m sure there are med droids on Denon somewhere. Once the others get back, that’ll be our next objective,” Cody spoke, sure of himself.

\---

“So, now that order 66 has been issued, do you think we’ll just go _dini’la_ if we see a Jedi?” Idi’jil pondered.

“But do the Jedi still exist if the order was dissolved? Like, say we ran into Kenobi, would we have to kill him even though he’s not a Jedi anymore?” Nerra countered.

They were treating this like a joke.

“We’re not taking any chances,” Cody interrupted, tossing each of his brothers a comlink. 

“Don’t look at any Jedi!” Paak called as they left. 

Denon was as much like Coruscant as Cody had heard. He almost felt at home, like he could round a crowded corner and come upon the GAR barracks-

Which is exactly what happened. Except, it couldn’t be the GAR if the war was over, right? And yet, here were hundreds of troopers in what looked to be an adaptation of the phase-II armor that was standard issue at the end of the war. 

Cody could not identify any designation of company from this distance, but he was fairly sure these were clone troopers. Their identical height and the way their steps fell in perfect sync told him as much. If clone troopers were stationed here, surely they would have access to medical equipment. 

“I’ve found what appears to be GAR barracks, mark my current location,” Cody spoke into the comm.

“Well that was easy. They should have what we need,” came the reply from the _Jate’kara_.

“ _Ka’ra_ two and three, report.”

“I’m seeing heavy GAR presence, too, _ka’ra_ one. Should we engage?”

“Negative. Something’s not right about this.”

“Bad feeling, sir?”

“You could say that. Fall back to my position and secure it, I’m going in but I may need backup. _Jate’kara_ , lay low. Retreat into orbit at any sign of trouble.”

Cody moved in closer to the barracks, hoping to confirm that these armored humanoids were indeed Fett clones.

“You think these _vode_ could be hostile?”

“It’s possible. _Jate’kara_ , what’s the last known Republic presence on Denon?”

“Green Mantle Command, _ka’ra_ one.”

Windu’s people, then. 

“Is Mace Windu still alive?”

“Unknown.”

“What about Aayla Secura?” 

“Confirmed dead, _ka’ra_ one. Declared a traitor to the Republic and… executed.”

“If they’re Imperial, they’ll treat you as a deserter if you resist recruitment,” Cas warned.

Not good. He couldn’t just walk in, then, they’d need a change of plan. 

“We could pose as clones abandoned during the war? Say we just made it back to a command center and need medical attention?” Nerra suggested. It was a possibility. 

It quickly became the only option when Cody was spotted from the ground and arrested for trespassing. 

“Smooth,” Idi’jil thought. Hopefully everyone on the open comm had heard what was happening and knew to keep quiet.

“Identification,” came the unmistakable voice of a clone trooper.

“CC-2224, Commander Cody, 212th Attack Battalion,” Cody replied robotically, adding in a rather convincing waver to his voice as though he was trying to disguise that he was in pain. He was definitely the best one for this job.

“ID checks out,” said the unidentified trooper as he scanned Cody’s wrist. “MIA since the battle of Utapau. What happened, trooper?”

“Commander,” Cody corrected. “I was abandoned by my Jedi General.” Technically true.

The other trooper sighed good-naturedly. 

“There’s a lot you’ve missed. I wouldn’t hold onto that rank if I were you, you’ll probably end up reassigned anyway.” 

The trooper entered something into a datapad and admitted Cody to the compound. Hand forming a fist at his side, he discreetly signaled to the others to hold their positions. Desperately hoping this wouldn’t end in bloodshed, Cody suddenly wished he didn’t have the lightsaber on him. 

The compound certainly had medical droids. Cody was given a basic physical examination and deemed perfectly healthy, saber pressing uncomfortably into the back of his thigh where he sat on it. Claiming nausea from having returned planetside for the first time in months, the droid stayed in his small cubicle as protocol dictated. He was given a change of clothes, standard and blessedly clean fatigues, and a bag for his other belongings. He hid the saber within his dusty robes and light leather armor, discreetly attaching his open comlink to the waistband of his grey shorts. 

Cody then set to work reprogramming the droid. Pulling the droid’s vocoder from its chassis with his bare hands, he ensured it wouldn’t be able to audibly call for help. Once it was shut down for reboot, he only had until the automatic network sweep before the droid would be marked non-functional. For now, he feigned lightheadedness, which the droid categorized as a higher priority than damaged non-essential parts. Cody lay on the cot with a cold compress to his forehead and counted the seconds between network sweeps.

Once he was ready, he began swiftly dismantling the droid while rhythmically tapping of the comlink on his hip against one of the droid’s arms. Message sent, droid disassembled. Now to finish the factory reset and wait. 

The other members of the away team got the message, and arranged for a distraction to occur within the next 180 seconds. Idi’jil raced back to the ship and took one of the recently acquired fuel cells, Nau'ur having converted it into a small bomb. Cody took the rumbling explosion as his cue and took his bag, striding out of the medbay with purpose as the droid followed him. Those who were actually sick or injured took no heed of him. 

Cody was almost to the exit when his comm sounded. Suppressing his momentary panic, Cody willed himself to keep moving.

“We have troopers on the landing pad—- investigation, should w- ——- what are your orders?”

That got Cody to panic. 

“Abandon position, _Jate’kara_. We’ll regroup in orbit,” he ordered as he started running. There was no going back now.

The droid, to its credit, was doing its best to keep up with him. One moment it was there, and the next it had been vaporized, as Cody realized the other troopers were firing at him. Those were not stun bolts. Panting hard, Cody ran harder, shielding the back of his head with his bag of blast-resistant armor. 

This was fine, he had done this before. Lose them in the crowd. Ditch the clothes. Oh, but they were so clean. He stripped near naked in an alley and changed back into his travel clothes, opting to keep the clean fatigues. Clearly the locals had seen stranger. Pulling up his hood to hide his face and scar, he signaled Nerra and Idi’jil to form up on his position and avoid being seen. They were alone on this bustling planet now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on Names  
> Ukid - from _buruk_ , danger; and _kovid_ , head: always rushing headfirst into danger  
> Onoff - literally just liked to mess with people by turning the lights on and off all the time  
> Ruusaan - Mando'a, reliable one (popular female name): Ruusaan went by her designation CT-307 for the duration of the war and only chose a name after realizing she was a woman  
> Nerra - Ryl for "brother"


	8. Denon, 7961 C.R.C. / 16 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PTSD, self harm via deliberate overwork, reckless plans

Nerra and Idi’jil found Cody when he barreled into them, sending all three sprawling. They honestly hadn’t recognized him, which was probably a good thing considering the circumstances. Pulling themselves back up, they made for the nearest crowded establishment without a word while working Cody’s new clothes into makeshift face coverings.

“Did they make it?” Cody hissed.

“Yes. What happened out there?”

“Cover was blown. Local troopers confirmed hostile.” Cody was still out of breath. After a moment, he continued.

“Another thing. They followed medbay protocols as I expected, but when the base was breached, they didn’t hesitate to blast their own med droid. I get the sense that they have vastly more funding than we did during the war.”

“Fine, so they won’t miss one or two.”

Adrenaline fading, Cody could no longer push away the vivid images of clones shooting at him. Suddenly, he was back on Umbara, assaulted by the devastation on Rex's face when he realized they had been shooting at their own. Broken to pieces, like Waxer’s heart when he had tearfully breathed his last. Cody shuddered.

“They were shooting to kill,” he managed numbly.

Nerra laid a comforting arm around Cody’s shoulders. Nerf fritters appeared from somewhere, but Cody was too nauseous to eat. He watched incredulously as Idi’jil stuffed his face. 

“Check those clothes for trackers. We need to get to a transport,” Cody spoke after a while. 

\---

Hours later, in a shabby motel in some nondescript sector of the sprawling planetwide city, Cody woke himself when he cried out for Rex. Nerra was asleep on the floor, where he was supposed to have taken watch. Unbelievable. Cody struggled to lift his brother onto the bed, but Nerra was out cold. He barely even stirred. Cody huffed in disgust and spent the rest of the night punishing himself for growing so weak.

Idi’jil woke to the sound of rhythmic clapping. Cody was on the floor, breathing hard as he repeatedly launched his upper body into the air, brought his hands together, and caught himself on the way down. That had to be annoying the downstairs neighbors.

“Why?” Idi’jil sighed.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Cody huffed between push-ups.

Idi’jil dragged himself out of bed and sat down on Cody’s back. Cody crumpled to the floor, panting and twitching, and made no move to resist. He probably couldn’t.

“Go the kriff to sleep,” he demanded, offering a hydration stim. 

Cody slumped into the mattress beside Nerra, who somehow draped all of his limbs over Cody, sleep-tackling him to ensure he would stay in bed this time. As if Cody could even move. He breathed out a shuddering sob into the pillow as he began drifting in and out of consciousness. The bed was warm, and now the room smelled comfortingly of cheap caf. Idi’jil was there at his side, rubbing his back with strong hands as he said something. It didn’t matter. Cody was so karking tired.

“ _Udesii_, _ori’vod_. I’ve got your back.”

\---

There was no such respite to be had for the crew of the _Jate’kara_. Imperial troopers had pursued them relentlessly into orbit and kept up the chase for 17 consecutive hours. All hands were on deck, manually scrambling the ship’s signature every time the probes swept over them. So, every 30 minutes. With no moons to hide behind, the ship was instead parked close to sub-light space lanes, where the high traffic stream of craft entering and leaving the atmosphere masked their physical profile. As the powdered caf packets and used energy stims piled up, everyone on board came to understand exactly how Cody must have felt during their last battle.

\---

When Cody awoke, he did not have the energy to dispute Idi’jil taking point on the mission. He didn’t even think to protest the reckless plan he and Nerra were following until after they had incapacitated three troopers and appropriated their armor. He hadn’t even been aware of what he was doing until he removed the helmet and saw the face of a brother, looking so much older than his own. He hadn’t been aware of what he was doing, and he could have killed them. 

It wasn’t like Cody to freeze. Idi’jil saw this and slapped Cody’s face, as Cody himself used to do to so many shinies. 

“We need to move, brother. Just pretend I’m Kenobi and follow me without question, ok?”

Cody snorted at that. There hadn’t been a single mission where he hadn’t questioned Kenobi.

It was eerie how perfectly the new armor fit their bodies, how perfectly perfectly their bodies fit into the ranks of the faceless army. Nobody stopped them as they entered a civilian airfield, no one seemed to notice that Cody was unarmed.

They couldn’t be the same, Cody thought. Yes, they were clones, he’d known that his whole life, but he would never intentionally harm one of his own. Not again. So yes, they had to be different. 

Idi’jil was a solid presence at his side as they boarded a cargo shuttle for “routine inspection.” Nerra didn’t hesitate for a second to hop into the pilot’s seat, and suddenly they were leaving the atmosphere with Imperial fighters hot on their tail. 

“What the kriff are you doing?” Cody demanded answers, having suddenly returned to the present.

“Should'a listened to the plan, commander. No time now, seal your suit up. Nerra, do we have a lock on the _Jate’kara_ 's position?”

“Affirmative.”

Cody stopped resisting when his brothers started tying him up. This was truly stranger than any Jedi’s plan, and from the way his brothers were laughing, they knew it, too.

The _Jate'kara_ was maintaining position as ordered. There had been no visual on the Imperial fighters for the past six hours. Perhaps they had given up the attack. Casaalan was not convinced, and continued to man his post as the others switched positions with those better rested. Cody had better hurry up. 

Cody was, in fact, approaching at high speed, aboard a stolen cargo shuttle that was alternately broadcasting an automated distress signal and Cody’s personal clearance code. Cas had no time to react as the shuttle rocketed past, ion exhaust physically pushing the _Jate’kara_ out from its hiding place. He watched from the cockpit as the shuttle picked up an escort of Imperial fighters, which trapped the shuttle in the collective tractor beams of the multiple single-pilot craft. Cas had never seen a maneuver like that. Cody had better not have been on that ship.

Fortunately, Cody was on the other side of the viewport, armored in white and tethered to Nerra and Idi’jil, who waved as Cas attempted to open a channel to their suit comms. Cody signed for him to stop, and to open the airlock. Cas suited up, then had to call for someone to drag Nau’ur back to the main cabin, for she had fallen asleep in the hatch. Extending a tether to Cody and the others, it dawned on him just how crazy that plan had been. 

The airlock was filled with shouting as soon as it re-pressurized. Idi’jil and Nerra were cheering, whooping, cry-laughing; Cody was back to shouting orders, and Cas was half congratulating and half condemning the reckless plan that had brought them all back in one piece. It served well to wake everyone up. Cody was the loudest, and so of course everyone listened to him. 

“Get us out of here!” he was screaming hoarsely. 

The jump to Quellor was plotted, Sen’s hands already on the hyperdrive activation when several Venator-class capital ships emerged from hyperspace, directly blocking their path.

“Turn around,” Nau’ur stated calmly, as if it was the clearest answer in the galaxy. She was obviously still half asleep.

Sen obeyed without a second thought, and they escaped along the Corellian Run.

\---

Drifting through hyperspace to an undetermined destination, Cody decided that he would not be responsible for the death of another clone, Imperial or not. He held the lightsaber in both hands as he sat still, hyperspace swirling around the ship. He was beginning to understand the significance of the weapon: as symbolic as it was utilitarian. Unfortunately, it was now a symbol of a fallen order and likely to cause much suspicion. Fortunately, he hadn’t had to use it yet. Not that he couldn’t, he had quickly discovered back on Utapau just how much more of a fearsome warrior he was with it. 

Idi’jil had offered to spar with him if he needed to, after witnessing him break down over his lost physical strength. Cody would take him up on that offer once the _vode_ rejoined the living. Cody had to be able to protect them, and without much in the way of weaponry, his fists were his first line of offense. He still kept the lightsaber, but it would have to be a last resort. 

The ship was eerily quiet as Cody stretched and made a circuit around the passenger area. Everyone was asleep, having crashed after the stims wore off. They were going to feel that when they woke up, and Cody did not look forward to it. Perhaps his overuse of stims had saved them once, but he never wanted to experience the aftermath again. When he'd first woken up after the battle of Utapau, he had honestly wanted to die.

They would have to revert to realspace at some point, and it was probably wiser not to burn up all their fuel and end up back in the outer rim with nothing. Their current trajectory put them back in the Mid-Rim, traveling in the opposite direction of Zeltros. They could link up with the Reena trade route if they reverted at Druckenwell…nope, Imperial controlled, not to mention heavily armed. The next junction would be Mon Gazza. A shadowport, that would work. They were still pretending to be smugglers, after all.

They were smuggling themselves.

Cody rubbed his wrists and felt the chip there, small enough to go unnoticed if one didn’t know what it was. The chips that marked them as merchandise. They shouldn’t be that hard for Sarad to remove, though he might not be able to do his own one-handed. Then again, Sarad was always up for a challenge. After being scanned on Denon, the Empire was no doubt after CC-2224. Without the chips, they could all be truly anonymous. 

Then there were the other chips. Mon Gazza was a smuggler’s haven, but poverty stricken and without major exports. It was possible there could be medical droids to attain, but this was most likely going to be a pit-stop. Where would be cosmopolitan enough to have high-tech medical facilities without falling under Imperial control?

He’d have to find out later. The _vode_ were waking up and making their agony well known. They’d need hydration stims, painkillers, solid food. He left them to their misery as he guided the ship. After reverting above Mon Gazza, Cody set the ship down as gently as he could manage, signing empathetically that the others should stay on board and rest. 


	9. Mon Gazza, 7961 C.R.C. / 16 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Cody channels his Mandalorian ancestry and attempts to adopt children who are, in fact, not orphans.

Cody got strange looks in the marketplace for buying such unexciting goods as food and medical supplies. Here, wherever one turned, there was a perfectly good plethora of potent spices and no law enforcement to stop its flow. Truly, hard drugs were the last thing the others needed right now. At least the Empire was unlikely to show up. 

Cody was humming to himself as he steamed the food packs outside the ship, the same lullaby he had heard Mak sing to his _ik’aad_, when he was startled by a young rodian.

“Are you a Jedi?” 

Cody’s answer was a silent look of such incredulity that the child started laughing. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

“No, I’m not, is there something I can help you with?” Cody said gruffly as he turned back to his cooking.

“Well, I um,” the rodian shifted nervously on their feet, “I’m hungry, sir.”

Cody sighed deeply, his look one of understanding. He offered them a steamed pack without a word. 

“T-thank you sir, um, there are others, and I just see that you have a lot, and…”

“These are for my siblings. They are very ill right now and cannot tend to themselves, I’m afraid.”

It was the rodian’s turn to look incredulous. “How many siblings do you have?”

“18 on board this ship, many more on other worlds,” Cody answered.

“Woooowww,” they gasped, mouth full of food.

“You said there are others, are they your siblings?”

“One of them is. We’re mostly just a bunch of orphans, what with the war and all.”

Cody scowled at that. The war had blazed right past this place and left the already fragile economy solely dependent on the illegal spice trade. 

“What’s your name?” Cody asked, slipping the kid a few credits.

“U-Uli, sir.”

“It’s Cody.” He turned back to the extended boarding ramp. “I need to help my family, you go help yours.”

Uli ran off, shouting thanks. That felt good, Cody thought.

\---

The _vode_ recovered soon enough, and someone just had to go out and buy spice and distribute it to the whole crew while Cody was out feeding orphans or whatever it was he did. Not one of them was about to reveal who did it. 

In their inebriated state, all they could do was laugh as Cody went into hysterics over the stench that now filled the ship. They were all shooed out and forced to set up camp outside, as Cody had locked the hatch, opened all external vents, and put the air scrubbers on high as he furiously sanitized every possible surface inside. This was a non-smoking ship, damn it.

“Gods, he is such a _buir_,” Nau’ur cried with tears of mirth.

“I’m tellin’ ya, he got the most Jango out of everyone,” Boil droned.

Now they were all imagining Jango Fett in a cleaning frenzy after discovering Boba’s drug stash, howling with laughter under the stars. 

“Wait, wait, _ad’ike_, isn’t he like, adopting a bunch of local kids or something? Peak _mando_ energy right there.” Idi’jil was onto something.

“ _Oya manda!_” someone shouted emphatically, and everything went downhill from there. Cody slammed his bucket on to tune out their off-key singing in butchered mando’a.

As the sun rose on the dusty world, so too did the wind. Cody had thought ahead and closed the vents, and now slept soundly in a ship that had not been this clean since it came off the production line. He was rudely interrupted by pounding on the ship’s hull, his _vode_ , screaming, still disoriented and delirious and apparently terrified of the sand that now whipped around the camp. 

Served them right.

“ _Jate vaar’tur, ner cyare’se!_” he called out cheerfully. He watched in amusement as they realized, to their horror, that they couldn’t understand what he was saying. If they wanted peak _mando_ , they would get peak _mando_. “ _Copaani yaim’ol?_”

“ _N-ni ceta?_” came an uncertain voice from outside. Cody laughed. Close enough.

Three _vode_ collapsed into the ship the moment he opened the door. He blocked their path when they stood up, leaving them quaking in their boots.

“Listen up. Far be it for me to tell you what to do with your bodies, but this is a non-smoking ship. Got it?” His answer was a chorus of frantic nods. 

Scared of the sand. Really. 

\---

Uli returned later in the day, and finally got to meet Cody’s esteemed siblings. They made fantastic entertainment for Cody’s little group of orphans as they slowly relearned how to walk. There were five children in total: Uli, her sister Ili, a twi’lek boy named Zo’dira, and a human and a zabrak, practically joined at the hip, who referred to themselves only as Miyana. Cody fed them all, told them stories, and asked for their help in finding fuel for the ship. 

Nobody here had fuel unless they were rich, and the richest people were the ones who ran the dangerous spice mines. 

“I really wish you were a Jedi, Cody, then you could confront the spice masters and scare them into freeing us,” Uli said wistfully. She laughed again when Cody’s eyes bulged at her casual statement.

“Do all of you make funny faces? Is it because you all look the same?”

Cody didn’t know what that meant, besides there were far more pressing matters here. These kids were being forced to mine spice?

The kids were once again breathless from laughing, this time at the funny faces some of the brothers were making at them. 

“Uli, are the spice masters making you work for them?”

Uli nodded shyly.

That decided it. If she needed him to be a Jedi, he was a Jedi now. 

“I want to talk to them,” he said with a frighteningly protective expression. 

“There he goes again,” Sen said knowingly as Cody marched off, as if into battle, Uli cheerfully tagging along.

“Honestly, why doesn’t he just adopt them already? I mean, come on, he is such a dad,” whined Paak. 

Cody heard him.

“I’ll become a parent when you lot stop acting like such children,” Cody shouted back, voice carried on the wind.

\---

Storming into the spice masters’ headquarters with his cloak billowing in the wind and a lightsaber at his left hip, Cody truly did look the part. The slavers reacted accordingly and dispatched a security detail made up of several different models of hunter droids, all in severe need of maintenance, which Cody cut down with practiced strokes of the glowing blue blade. It was incredibly satisfying. 

Cody wasn’t so sure the Jedi would be proud that their legacy was one of terror. The slavers turned tail and fled the planet when he so much as looked at them, but it worked well enough for him. It also worked in his favor that the spice miners, newly freed from slavery, practically worshipped him for singlehandedly destroying their oppressors. He accepted what fuel he needed and insisted on paying in full, still in shock that he could do so much good on his own. 

He knew it couldn’t be that easy, however. These people were still vulnerable, and there were plenty more beings in the galaxy willing to exploit that. Furthermore, he couldn’t stay, and that crushed him. 

He had to save someone. When Uli thanked him with a joyous hug to his leg, he offered to adopt her and the others and raise them as his own.

“What?” she laughed.

“You could all be free of this place, come with us and see the stars, finally have a family.”

“Cody, I already have a mom.”

Cody had not been expecting that. “I thought you said you were orphans?”

“Zo’dira and Miyana are, but my mom takes care of them too. Or, well, she tries, but it’s hard. That’s why I’m helping!”

Cody wanted to cry. 

“Don’t cry, Cody, because of you everything will get better,” she consoled. He wasn’t crying. He wasn’t. He crouched down to Uli’s height, in awe of the innocence in her sparkling blue eyes, and realized he couldn’t see straight. Uli embraced him tenderly. 

“Uli! There you are!” came the rushed and timid voice of an adult rodian, who attempted to pull her child away from the strange human.

“Mama! This is Cody, my Jedi friend!”

This was what Jedi looked like? A small human man, crouched on the ground with teary eyes, held in the gentle embrace of her daughter. He stood and introduced himself, insisting he was no Jedi. He was not as small as she had first thought, but he remained non-threatening. Cautiously, she extended her hand, which Cody clasped firmly above the wrist. He was very warm.

“Mama, he tried to adopt me.”

Fury lit her features, and she lunged at Cody, who swiftly sidestepped the frail woman’s attack.

“No Jedi is taking my children!” she shouted, though it sounded more like a sob.

“I-I’m not a Jedi. Honestly, I didn’t know she had a parent, and I am very glad someone is looking out for her and the others. I meant no disrespect.”

“He fed us, and destroyed all the enforcer droids! He’s not a bad man,” Uli insisted. Emerging from the shadows, the others joined their sister and all spoke praise for Cody. He honestly had no idea what to do when the woman broke down in tears, comforted by the children surrounding her. 

Gradually, the rodian’s sobs quieted. “Thank you,” she mouthed to Cody, voice too hoarse to be audible. He merely nodded back. He sat there, wondering if he was intruding but unwilling to leave, until the mother extracted herself from the cocoon of children and extended her hand once more.

“It seems we got off to a bad start. My name is Rola, and I am eternally grateful to you, Jedi or not.”

\---

The glorious bastard had actually done it. The celebration from town could be heard from the ship as Cody returned home, cloak swishing and surrounded by happy kids. If only Kenobi was here to see this. The _vode_ were never going to let him live this down. 

This time, Cody was also accompanied by a woman. She introduced herself as Rola, the guardian of the five children. It seemed Cody wouldn’t be adopting them, then. Unless he married Rola. Fresh ammunition for teasing Cody, the _vode_ declared; this day just kept getting better and better. 

“Don’t be kriffing _besom’la_, there are children here,” Cody asserted.

Cody’s stern gaze met Rola’s, and he realized with disdain that she was doing the rodian equivalent of blushing. No. This was not happening. He ignored the unwelcome rush of blood to his face and groin. Kark that noise. He wasn’t a kriffing teenager… well, ok he was, but never mind that.

Cody cleared his throat loudly. “I want to offer you and your children passage to Rodia. It’s not far,” he reasoned.

That flustered Rola even more, she couldn’t possibly accept, she was in his debt and would never ask him to go out of his way to return them to her home planet. Truly, she would do anything to repay him. Cody was at a loss for what to say. Something about this was making him very uncomfortable, but he knew it would be wrong to leave them here, especially when he could help so easily.

Thankfully, Casaalan stepped in. 

“Why don’t you accompany us as far as Manda? We’re already headed that way, and you can easily get your own transport once there. Please, I insist,” he spoke with a charming smile. He clearly had experience in this field. 

Cody retreated and left the rest of the work to the expert, who he thanked profusely once it was all over.

“No problem, _vod_. You got my back, I got yours. And hey, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Talk about what? He didn’t want to think about it. That was a problem for future Cody.


	10. Manda, 7961 C.R.C. / 16 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some sad

Manda was the answer to Cody’s problems. A high-tech, cosmopolitan society that prized free trade and exchange of information. Despite technically falling under Imperial rule, this was a planet rich and powerful enough to essentially govern itself. Cody got the sense that most people here knew he was a clone, but chose to let him and the others have their freedom. Manda had been loyal to the Republic during the war and seen battle firsthand. 

The amount of freely available information here had Cody in ecstasy. Finally, he had some political context for why the war had ended. Apparently, some Sith Lord had appeared from nowhere and attempted to commandeer the 501st.

They had dealt with Sith before, but this brash attempted takeover of the GAR had unintentionally revealed that the Sith had far more power within the Republic than anyone had imagined. The Second Battle of Coruscant saw factions of clones turned against each other as the bulk of the 501st defended the Jedi Temple from the Coruscant Guard. When it was revealed that only the clones who answered directly to the Chancellor were the ones attacking the Jedi Temple, the Senate had ordered an investigation and found correspondence records between the Chancellor and Count Dooku himself.

The chaos had left hundreds of Jedi and clones dead, and though civilian casualties were minimal, Mas Amedda and Commander Fox had declared martial law in the Chancellor’s absence in order to stop the fighting. The Chancellor was arrested for treason, the Jedi were declared unfit to protect the Republic, the clones deemed dangerously incompetent and in need of reconditioning, and once again the Sith Lord had emerged from the shadows and declared himself Emperor. 

The Republic Senate wasn’t having this, and had somehow managed to use bureaucracy to drive this new Emperor off Coruscant, though he had taken with him half the GAR, inexplicably loyal to him. The Separatists had all but disappeared, and left economic collapse and instability in their wake, which the Empire readily took advantage of. That explained their presence in the Outer Rim. It did not explain what had happened to the clones, though Cody had a strong hunch. Once again, the trail went cold.

Cody sighed, stretched and got up from his workstation. Perhaps one of the archivists in the library would be able to help him find out more. Checking the chrono, he realized too late that it was already 0303. It appeared the only other people there were students from the nearby university. Fine. He would wait all night if he had to. After a break to use the ‘fresher and get a drink of water, he was back at it. Honestly this was more restful than the past week of trying to sleep in the ship, occupied with 24 other people as it was. 

Tracing through his meticulously drawn diagrammatical notes, Cody found himself wondering whose side of history this account of the Clone Wars was. Who had even won the war? The Republic was crumbling, and the Empire didn’t seem to be doing much better. The Separatists were just… gone. One thing was certain, this was not written by a clone. He supposed that made them the losers in the war. The war that had created them and taken everything from them. He still wasn’t sure what the point had been.

Perhaps primary sources written by clones were out there. He would’ve written one, had he had access to this kind of database. Maybe he could re-establish contact with the brothers in other battalions. He quickly found that the only clone commanders searchable by name were those who had been killed during the war. Fil. Ponds. Thorn. Colt. Havoc. Apparently, the Empire didn’t acknowledge names. Begrudgingly, Cody began searching by designation.

Hells, he couldn’t even remember everyone’s designation. Bly was 5052, they’d called him 52 for years because he'd chosen his name later than most. CC-5052…dishonorable discharge. That either meant he was on the run, sentenced to reconditioning or death on Kamino, or dead by his own hand. Cody sighed. Bly had always been so sure of himself. Whatever had led to his discharge must have broken him. Cody wondered if Bly had been the one to order General Secura’s execution. It was horrible, he couldn’t imagine doing that to his general. 

Who else was there? CC-1010. Fox. Killed in service just months after the end of the war. Cody’s heart sank. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be fun. 

CC-4477. Thire. Active.

CC-3636. Wolffe. AWOL. 

Kriff, he couldn’t remember any more CC designations. He moved on to the CT’s.

CT/ARC-27-5555. Fives. Nothing, as expected.

CT-6116. Kix. MIA.

CT-7567. Rex. KIA.

Those last three letters stole Cody’s breath like a punch to the gut. He read the report, over and over again, but none of it felt real. Captain Rex of the 501st, killed in action during the Siege of Mandalore. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening. Cody methodically logged off the data kiosk, gathered his notes with inhuman precision, and exited the library with perfectly measured paces before he had a breakdown in public. 

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. Rex was 501st, the best of the best, the bravest, most loyal and persevering soldier he’d ever met. The first being Cody had ever loved, his precious _vod’ika_. He couldn’t even remember the last words they’d spoken to each other. _Oh gods._ Cody was running now, apparently a better strategy than walking aimlessly, some part of his brain decided. He only stopped when he came to a dead end in some unfamiliar part of the city. 0400 was quiet, almost as quiet as his sobs.

He turned back the way he came. There were still people out at this hour, some laughing, some wandering aimlessly like him. Of course. The bars were still open. 

Cody decided he had to drink to Rex’s memory. It was a small victory that he managed to find that Corellian whiskey Rex had always liked so much. Rex, the straight-laced and infallible captain, who had illegally snuck this stuff into the barracks on multiple occasions. He bought a bottle, hopefully enough for 16 shots. One for each drink Rex had promised him. Cody smiled, _aay’han_. 

Now to get back home. He had no idea where the kriff he was. Heading back the way he came was probably a good start. There was a chill in the air as the sun began to rise. He could feel in in his lungs with every breath. Damp and heavy, with a musky mineral scent that invigorated his senses despite his exhaustion. 

The landscape that stretched before him was vast, though logically he knew he had traversed physical distances orders of magnitude greater. The _Jate’kara_ could only be kilometers away, simply hiding behind the planet’s curvature, buried somewhere in the dazzling city illuminated at the borders as it caught the first rays of the sun. 

“Cody?” came a small and easily recognizable voice. Impossible, he was utterly alone out here, probably the only being on the planet.

There was Uli, still dressed in her sleep clothes, her expression a curious mix of desperation and relief. For a moment, Cody forgot how to speak.

“Wh- what the k- ugh- why are you here?” he finally managed.

“I couldn’t sleep. I had a dream that you were sad.”

Sad didn’t begin to describe it. Now, his “sad” was joined by fond familiarity, excitement, realization, and fear, all entirely too much to handle right now. He needed a drink.

“You need to sleep, Cody,” she pleaded, taking his hand. 

Fine, fine. She was right. And sounding like Rex. The tears started flowing again and he made no attempt to stop them. As she led them back to the docking bay where the others rested, he debated lecturing her about wandering off on her own in the middle of the night. That was probably the grown-up thing to do, but all he felt for her was gratitude for saving his ass. Honestly, he didn’t feel like much of a grown-up right now. He’d definitely talk to Rola about it later. That and the dream thing. That seemed important.

The few _vode_ who were awake expressed their silent concern upon Cody’s return, but Uli guided him to his bunk with such determination that they knew better than to stop her. Expertly, the kid tucked him in and made sure he was asleep before returning to her own bed as if she had never been gone.

\---

Cody had never been this drunk before. He didn’t have the brain power to decide whether or not he regretted his actions this past morning, so Sarad had done it for him.

“He has alcohol poisoning,” Sarad griped. This was so unlike Cody.

They had found him, early in afternoon, passed out on his bunk surrounded by holos from the war and an empty bottle of Corellian whiskey. 

Ash, Puzzle and Ukid all verified that they had seen Cody return around 0430, openly sobbing, with Uli, and that he had gone to bed shortly after. Uli was now grounded. 

“You can’t keep doing this! You know how dangerous it can be!” Uli’s exasperated mother explained for what sounded like the thousandth time. 

“He needed help! He was lost, and sad, and I couldn’t sleep until I knew he was ok!” Uli shouted, insistent. 

Rola looked utterly defeated. She knew they were both right. The clones didn’t dare interfere with the parenting, but all wordlessly agreed that they would not let the kids out of their sight again. 

\---

Cody regained consciousness in the medbay, though he wished he hadn’t. He could tell where he was by the smell. 

“How’re you feeling, Cod’ika?”

Cody still refused to open his eyes, but he could tell that was Casaalan.

“ _Haryc b’aalyc_,” Cody mumbled.

“Care to explain yourself?”

“Rex’ika is dead,” Cody sighed, with a lack of emotion that surprised even himself.

Cody felt a sting in his upper arm, and gradually his head cleared of the fogginess and pain, leaving only the rawness of his grief.

He slowly took in the faces around him. Cas. Sarad. Lark. Boil. They all had Rex’s face. Of course they did.

Cautiously, Lark took his hand. He let her.

" _Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la_,” she whispered. 

“ _Ni su’cuyi, gar kyr’adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum_,” they spoke in unison. The following silence was punctuated with identical voices reciting the names of the dead. 

“Dulix.”

“Gearshift.”

“Longshot.”

“Waxer.”

“Rex,” Cody’s voice broke. “99. Fives. O’Niner. Nub.” He continued with the names of every clone he could remember who had died under his command. “Hevy. Cutup. Droidbait. Mixer. Redeye. Charger.”

The others were silent as Cody kept on, speaking the names like a reverent chant. They listened. They remembered.

“Tell us about Rex?” Cas eventually asked.

“I swear, he and his guys consistently pulled improbable victories from their _shebs_,” Cody reminisced with a smile. “His general was no different. He was practically still a teenager, his padawan was literally still a teenager, and most of the time, Rex was the only adult present.” They all laughed at that.

“He was…brave, brilliant, resourceful, protective. Thought for himself. Listened to his brothers and his commanders. I used to say, if the Seps could beat him, we were all at risk. He’s the one who warned me about the chips.”

“See,” Lark said, squeezing his hand, “he’s watching over us even now.”

She was right. Rex had saved his life, and he had a duty to make sure it wasn’t for nothing. He would find a way to remove the chips. He would find and help as many _vode_ as he could. He would protect Uli, Rola, Ili, Zo’dira and Miyana. 

Cody sat up with a sudden realization. 

“I need to talk to Rola.”

\---

Rola entered, sat down beside the bed and tried to make herself as small as possible. Cody didn’t like that he apparently made her nervous. He did them both a favor and got straight to the point.

“I think Uli is Force-sensitive.”

Rola hardly reacted. “How do you know this?” she asked calmly, without meeting his eyes.

“I served with multiple Jedi during the Clone Wars. Her abilities- how she found me last night, how she seems able to read my mind, to see things before they happen- reminds me of them.”

“I have seen it too. Her father was the same way.” So she knew.

“And Ili?”

“Ili as well. All of them have it.”

That shocked Cody a bit.

“Watch them and you’ll see it. The way they communicate without speaking. How they can make themselves silent and invisible. Miyana, they- they told me they were one in the Force before they even found each other, and then Ili found them,” she said, trembling slightly.

“That’s why you were afraid I’d take them,” Cody realized solemnly. She only nodded.

“White armored soldiers hunted their father down for what he was. It’s why we fled Rodia, why we ended up captured by slavers,” she choked on her own voice.

“We have to protect them,” Cody said with gentle conviction. Rola’s hand found his, and she drew herself closer. Cody stopped her. “Rola, do you know what I am?

She did not answer, only stared at him with wide eyes.

“You must know now that I am not a Jedi. I’m a clone. We're all clones."

"I-I I didn't know, I mean, it felt wrong to assume, I-" Rola stuttered. This time Cody took her hands to calm her.

"Those white-armored soldiers were my brothers,” he finally admitted. It sounded like a confession, though there was no regret, only sadness. He felt Rola tense up.

“We clones have chips in our heads, that made some of us follow an order to kill all Jedi. We’re out here because we’re searching for a way to remove ours. I don’t know if we could be a threat, but it’s best for now that the others aren’t told.”

Rola was drawing herself away again, suddenly fearful of Cody. 

“You can leave if you wish,” he sighed. “You’ll be safe here. I would never willingly harm your children, but it’s better to be cautious. Please, just stay in contact. Once we sort this out, I want to be able to help you if anything goes wrong.”

She did leave, later that day, after Cody had helped her find an apartment nearby. She was very civil about the whole thing, graciously thanking them for their hospitality and stating that they had far overstayed their welcome, that it was time they all move on. Cody promised the kids he would visit, though truthfully he had no idea when.

Later that night as he lay contemplating existence, he realized there was nothing, not a whisper in his mind telling him to hurt those kids.


	11. Manda, 7961 C.R.C. / 16 BBY

“Cody, can we talk?”

“‘Course, Cas. What is it?”

“Are you attracted to women?” 

Well. That was unexpected.

“What?”

“I couldn’t help but notice Rola making physical advances on you. You seemed uncomfortable with it. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

“Oh. Uh, guess I haven’t thought about it.”

“So is there a reason you’re avoiding her now?”

“I- It’s classified.”

“It’s the chips.”

“Damn you, Cas.”

\---

The only med droids to be found near the University were of the very expensive variety, the kind that performed well and could withstand the abuses of thousands of ignorant students. The _Jate’kara_ was thus relocated to a much more mercantile district several hundred kilometers closer to the equator, where things were warmer and stormtroopers harder to avoid. 

The warm weather seemed to be the reason so many troopers broke regulation and removed their helmets and even armor while on duty. Interestingly enough, these troopers were not brothers, though some looked similar enough to one another that they could have been clones from another template. These were barely more than armored customs inspectors and lacked any sort of combat skill, if the way the locals treated them was any indication. Cody wondered if they could even shoot those blasters they carried.

Incompetent as they were, the Imperials would probably recognize a Fett clone, so the _vode_ were laying low. Ironically, it was Cody avoiding confrontation with one of the troopers that drew the attention of several human merchants who frequented the docks. They laughed. He scowled. 

“You think you’re so tough? Couldn’t even stand up to a stormie?” one of them shouted after him. He sounded like a teenager, though Cody wasn’t about to turn around and confirm it. He was getting too old for this. 

To his annoyance, the young merchants followed him to the data center, where he purchased a wanted ad for AZI or 2-1B model medical droids. 

“Hey, Gramps! That’s not gonna work!” one of them teased.

“Why’s that?” he replied with a steely edge in his voice that barely disguised the dormant warrior within. 

“Haven’t you heard?”

“No, I probably haven’t,” he interrupted as he turned to face them. “Seeing as I’ve been living in a sinkhole for the past three years.”

The group looked to be 5 humans of mixed genders, ages 25-40 standard, dressed in practical but not inexpensive clothing. All of them were regarding Cody with a sense of awe and caution. 

“Well?” he said sharply, stance confident. They immediately stopped gawking at him like some sort of war exhibit and began chattering amongst themselves.

The one who appeared to be the oldest of the group eventually shoved her way through the others, scolding them for being rude, and addressed Cody directly.

“I am Teoni Caj Baobab, though you may call me Teo. What is your name?”

“Korr. Korr Yos,” Cody replied.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Korr Yos. Unfortunately, my associates are right. There will be no finding what you are looking for, at least not on Manda. However, as a representative of the Baobab Merchant Fleet, it is my duty to make sure no customer leaves unsatisfied. Might I invite you to our local office, so that we may reach a solution?”

Professional. The younger merchants seemed to defer to her. She was likely a mentor, probably well-traveled and definitely old enough to remember the Clone Wars.

“Allow me to confer with my own associates first,” he replied, before exchanging private comm frequencies. 

As he left, he heard the youths of the group shouting affirmations to each other. 

“That’s how it’s done!” 

“Right on!”

They sounded like his _vode_ in battle. He shook his head fondly. These kids hadn’t even done anything.

\---

“Alright, who wants to go undercover?” were the first words from Cody’s mouth as he ducked into the _Jate’kara_ ’s open hatch.

Puzzle, Onoff, and Paak, who had been reading and relaxing near the hatch, immediately scrambled and disappeared.

He found the rest huddled around the holotable in deep discussion, and waved nonchalantly to get their attention.

“Hey Codes, what’s up?” Boil only ever called him Codes when he was trying to hide something. 

“Got a mission for us. Need two volunteers.”

Verd and Butterfly volunteered wordlessly, but no one stopped what they were doing.

“What’s going on?” Cody asked.

“Alright, who wants to tell him?”

“Ukid should do it, it was his idea after all,” Turbo said, attempting to throw Ukid under the speeder.

Ukid stepped forward proudly, undeterred. 

“I was thinking,” he began, “the Rishi system is just one sector over. It’s two straight jumps to Kamino from here. If anyone would know how to get the chips out, it’d be the Kaminoans.”

“Right, and they’d decommission us all for not following order 66,” Paak added as he joined the conversation.

“Not our fault we never got order 66,” Idi’jil said, looking at Cody. “Ok, maybe it is _your_ fault, you should probably stay here.”

“I’m not saying everyone should go. Volunteer only, we can get another ship-”

“No.”

Ukid sighed dramatically, with a drawn out groan of Cody’s name.

“Paak’s right. It’s too dangerous. We try my way first, I might have just found a lead.”

With that, Cody exited the cabin, followed by Verd and Butterfly as they argued over who got to play each of the two remaining roles.

Cody settled the argument by chucking clothes at them. 

“Just keep your roles straight, I only need you there as backup. These people might already know we’re clones.”

“Intriguing,” Butterfly said as both his eyebrows arched high.

“Hostile?” Verd looked about ready to throw down.

“Unlikely, but stay on guard.”

“Objective?”

“Information retrieval. Contacts are locally based fleet merchants.”

With that, they left, Cody throwing a comlink to Sen, who caught it without turning around. They could do this in their sleep by now. Cody confirmed the location with the contact, where they arrived by speeder cab and were escorted up a dizzyingly tall building by turbolift. 

Teoni Baobab was there, but none of the apprentices from earlier. 

“Welcome, Korr Yos, I take it these are your associates?”

“Thank you. These are my brothers, Kanda and Kano,” Cody motioned to Verd and Butterfly, respectively, as he introduced them. He accepted the offered refreshments with thinly veiled impatience as he sat in the absurdly comfortable chair. “Care to tell me why I won’t find what I’m looking for here?”

“Unfortunately, the Empire has not only restricted the sale of the particular models you require, but has rather efficiently confiscated and destroyed most individual units. Terrible business practice, but they were among the multiple droid models recalled after the Clone Wars and never replaced.

“Currently, extant models are only available through more illicit trade, though I’m sure you upstanding citizens wouldn’t know anything about that,” Teo drawled sarcastically.

Cody listened with an increasingly confused expression, until Verd elbowed him hard.

“Is that all you’re going to tell me?” Cody asked.

“I could attempt to sell you other models, but now that I’ve met all three of you, I get the distinct sense that’s not going to work. I’ve already sent my apprentices to research customized and retrofitted models that you may be able to reprogram to bypass the data wipe issued with the recall, but unless you can find a loophole in the Artificial Intelligence Conduct bills passed after the Organa-Amidala Sentient Rights Summit and the Separatist surrender, my best advice is to go directly to the manufacturer.”

Cody wasn’t blinking as he absorbed this generous cache of information. 

“How can I find more about these potential loopholes? The holonet records all seem to have been erased.”

“I have a cousin,” Teo offered Cody a comm signature and planetary coordinates, “who is currently building an experimental alternative to the Imperial Holonet. I’m sure he’d appreciate any support you have to offer and may be willing to grant access of Imperial-censored records to a fellow honest merchant-scholar.”

“How can I thank you?”

“Whenever you need to buy something, come to me first,” was her immediate answer. Cody chuckled warmly at that. 

“And Korr,”

“Yes?”

“You didn’t hear any of this from me.”

\---

“She knows we’re clones.” Verd was nearly frantic.

“I know, _vod_ , I was there,” Cody reassured casually. 

“Literally no one had ever been that helpful to us before. It’s suspicious.”

“Right? We have to get out of here, they’ll report us and we’ll be reprogrammed!”

This panic was not one Cody had anticipated. 

“Not on my watch,” he spoke after a pause.

Cody already had three different missions and assignments for each team in mind by the time they reached the ship. The other _vode_ were up late, apparently having resigned themselves to receiving further orders instead of sleeping. As he was pulling up maps at the holotable, he noticed an incoming message from Utapau.

“Cody,” he answered.

“Ah, Cody, how’re you doin’, _vod_?” It was Gus.

“Getting impatient for some action,” Cody replied. The more he found out, the more energized he felt for the fight with… whoever was behind all these secrets. “Everything alright on your end?”

“Actually, I’m, ah, calling to warn you. We’ve started the chip extraction, but some of us have had bad reactions to the surgery, mostly those who had to go off their medications before they could have it done.”

That would be a problem. Mey and Casaalan in particular were dependent on their medications to treat their nerve damage and chronic pain. Lark and Nau’ur would likely have to hold off on their hormone replacement therapy as well.

“I see. We’ll have to be prepared to be incapacitated for a while. Thanks for the heads up,” Cody said solemnly. 

Another _vod_ joined Gus. Sketch, Cody recognized the tattoo above their left eyebrow. They looked…distraught.

“What is it?” Cody’s face mirrored Sketch’s concern.

“It’s Davijaan, and Jundi, and Rin,” they blurted, “they’re not just having ‘bad reactions,’ it’s- it’s really bad. They want to see you.”

Gus deflated in response. “I was gonna tell him,” Cody heard him whisper as their holograms appeared to walk in place. Cody summoned the others.

Davijaan was awake, and looking much thinner than Cody remembered. It was hard to tell with the way the blue lines of the hologram shimmered through his form, but he also looked much older.

“Hey, Odd Ball. Hanging in there?” 

Cody’s answer was a non-committal grunt and a mock salute. He was barely there. Cody reached into the holofield, hand tingling where it ghosted against the glowing blue copy of his brother’s. Kriff’s sake, Odd Ball was even younger than Cody, he had a boyfriend, they were supposed to be getting married. Would this be their ultimate fate? To survive the war, only to shrivel and drop like insects now that they’d served their purpose?

Quietly, so as not to disturb the others, Cody and his _vode_ sent well-wishes, holos of them goofing off, detailed reports of what they’d found, and their plans for the immediate future. Gus and Davijaan were laughing over an image of Cody with his almost-adopted kids. In exchange, Sketch sent all the information they had on the mysterious and rapid deterioration of the three clones. 

“Take care of them,” Cody said as he signed off. It was an order. 

“Alright, I’ve got three new missions for us,” Cody continued wearily as some of the others groaned and ignored him. 

“One team stays here, interacts with the locals. One team comes with me to meet a new contact at an archive facility, and the third mans the ship for mobile recon. I’m telling you now because, while I already have teams in mind, I want each of you to choose the position you’re most comfortable with,” he nodded at Verd. 

“We do this right and we’ll be helping ourselves and the guys back home. Think about it, and get some rest.”

Cody, once again, did not heed his own advice. Instead, he spent the night reading the report Sketch had sent. He drifted off at some point, only to dream of murdering Obi-Wan Kenobi and eroding into dust. Casaalan discovered him in the middle of the night, stuffing his face with the spiciest foods he could find to distract from his nightmare. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Cas asked sleepily.

“No.”

“You can’t hold this all in forever you know.”

Yes he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on Names:
> 
> Verd - Mando'a, warrior/soldier
> 
> Butterfly - xenobiology specialist, especially fascinated with species that metamorphose


	12. Manda, 7961 C.R.C. / 16 BBY

The teams formed themselves roughly as Cody had expected, and the dry-hot afternoon saw them go their separate ways. Magic and Ukid stood on the landing field and watched the gleaming form of the _Jate’kara_ disappear over the horizon, and shared a wicked grin as the ship passed out of visual range. Cody couldn’t yell at them for what he couldn’t see. The two brothers ran off before Butterfly or Mey had a chance to realize they were up to anything, not to return until they had eaten their weight in candy or died trying.

No matter. They didn’t all need to be present for the mission to work. Cody had only asked them to gather any pertinent information the juvenile nat-borns might inadvertently reveal. Mey was looking forward to revealing herself as the surly older sister to the Yos triplets. She’d make them talk.

“Mey!” Butterfly was snapping his fingers annoyingly close to Mey’s eyes. She had probably zoned out again.

“You were making your murder face,” Butterfly whined, and Mey’s eyes narrowed minutely in what he knew to be surprise. 

“This isn’t an interrogation,” Butterfly repeated Cody’s earlier warning, punctuating every syllable. Mey pushed her brows together with her fingers in annoyance. 

“Alright, let’s go,” she finally spoke, “I’m getting bored.”

Mey’s makeup skills were put to good use as she seamlessly covered Butterfly’s tattoos and her own facial scars, opting to accentuate the asymmetry of her features and painting on the appearance of a permanent scowl for good measure. Apparently, these kids knew they were clones. In fact, Cody had said they were fascinated by clones. In that case Mey would not give the kids any excuse to hold the fact that they were older over her. 

Evening was approaching, bringing a light breeze to accompany the thick movement of air that came with the constant traffic. It stirred up the heavy haze of fuel exhaust that had settled over the hot duracrete expanse and made strange shimmering illusions with the changing light. Mey attempted to capture the illusions on holo, like normal people did. The limited color holographic reproduction did not compare to the wild expanse of deep blues and purples, fiery oranges and reds, and the occasional white interruption from a gleaming streak of a starship catching the setting sun or the lowest magnitude stars appearing as Manda Prime temporarily relinquished its dominance of the sky. Extra had taught Mey how to describe things like that, back on Utapau. He’d probably enjoy the holo. She could send it, along with some poetic description to prove that yes, she could enjoy living in the moment. 

She was living in the moment just fine, thank you very much. Acting natural. Butterfly had’t moved from his spot in what used to be the shade in hours, his face looking rather stiff as he read whatever had caught his attention this time. Or, rather, fanned himself with his datapad. Right, most people got uncomfortable in the heat with lots of makeup on. Mey had no such weakness, not since she had learned to paint her face on every day after the reconstruction surgery. She couldn’t even feel the heat. Kark, that meant she was probably dehydrated.

Butterfly looked on in silent approval as Mey slowly but steadily downed a whole liter of water. He had to admire her focus. Another quick sweep of the landing field showed that the only movement was still from the load-lifting droids, most organics opting to stay inside. It would cool off eventually, perhaps then the kids they were waiting for would show themselves. Apprentice merchants, he corrected himself. Apparently they had been sent after reprogrammable med droids, but their effectiveness was yet to be seen. Cody had also mentioned that they were unprofessional. Sounded like a certain two _vode_ who had made themselves scarce since the others departed. Maybe they’d get along well.

“Who wants candy?” came the stillness-shattering cry that announced Magic and Ukid’s return. All at once, activity at the spaceport resumed as the people who had been waiting around for an excuse to get back to work simultaneously decided to do anything other than acknowledge the strange outburst. 

The sugar fueled enthusiasm of Mey’s brothers turned icy with dread as soon as she cast what she thought was a neutral stare at them. She looked almost as scary as Cody when he was angry.

“It’s for the mission,” Butterfly explained.

“Oh! Yes, the mission! That’s why we went out and got all this candy, right _vod_?” Magic shouted.

“Where are those guys anyways? We thought since they’re kids they might want some candy.”

Butterfly quickly picked them out from amongst the crowd, for they were almost as loud as his brothers. They seemed to be leaving all the work to the droids, laughing, joking, and pointing in the general direction of the clones.

“Hey guys! Want some candy?” Magic was already hollering as he moved towards the group. Butterfly resigned himself to doing damage control.

The young humans were still arranged in their casual group formation, but individually they were closing off their stances and looking warily at Magic, who did not reduce his speed in the slightest. One quickly identified himself as the leader, or at least the most responsive to unexpected situations, stepping forward only to recoil in anticipation of an impact. Magic stopped just in time.

“Yos, right?” he breathed out, stepping away from Magic’s awkward and excited presence when Magic did not move.

“Yup! Ko-Kan-Kano? Kano Yos.”

“That’s your real name?” the youth huffed, clearly unimpressed.

“Give him a break, Tonaix, it’s not like clones get real names,” one of the others teased. Magic pouted sadly.

“Ha, yeah, is Tonaix even your real name?” Ukid blundered in, quick to rush to his brother’s defense.

“Which one are you?”

“Kanda, and that’s Korr, and Mey-” Ukid quickly silenced himself.

“Kai’tome,” Mey growled. “It means destroyer of worlds.”

Her brothers all sputtered, Butterfly shoving candy in Ukid’s mouth to silence his “no it doesn’t.”

“Pretty neat that you all get to choose your own names,” a young woman stepped up and took some of the previously offered candy. “I don’t even like my name, but my parents dropped it on me and now I’m stuck with it.”

“Well, you don’t have to use it if you don’t like it?” Magic offered. “We get numbers assigned at birth but no clone uses their designation.”

“So you are clones,” a third spoke harshly, with an air of forced toughness.

Ukid nodded meekly with wide eyes.

“And you want us to find your med droids?” Tough kid’s voice broke with disbelief.

“Gods, Teo really has it in for us,” the one who didn’t like her name said through a mouth full of candy.

Magic’s childish pout changed to a look of utter confusion, mirrored by each of his brothers. Only Mey’s face remained frighteningly stoic.

“It’s impossible,” she continued, and offered no further explanation. 

Mey had had enough. It was time for some harmless intimidation. She stepped forward, and the two who had been lingering behind the others stepped back. She only had to cock her head inquisitively for the formerly tough kid to start blabbering.

“Teo’s always giving us impossible tasks when we mess up,” he explained, physically shielding his companions from Mey. “What she’s asking of us is downright illegal.”

“That’s the point, Deren,” Tonaix hissed in an exaggerated whisper. Now this was interesting.

“Maybe we can work together,” Butterfly interjected. “We know a few things about impossible tasks.”

“We’re smugglers,” Magic added in a way he thought sounded convincing.

All five of the apprentice merchants immediately responded with laughter, the one who had previously spoken with her mouth full of candy now apologizing profusely for her unprofessionalism through tears. The _vode_ were all glaring at Magic.

“First of all, Kano, you lot are the most interesting group to visit this platform in months,” Tonaix somehow managed to laugh with authority.

“By interesting he means suspicious,” the young woman clarified.

“It’s clear you don’t know the first thing about flying under Imperial radar. I saw you, tiptoeing around those stormtroopers as if they could actually do anything worse than fine you. First lesson: they don’t actually care about anything other than meeting their quotas. You make it look legal, and they won’t have any reason to go after you. Now shut up and learn, because we aren’t thriving in Imperial space by following their laws. I’m gonna teach you old geezers how to evade taxes.”

—-

The Baobab Merchant Archives were a small city of spires tucked into the mountains, visually stunning and upon further inspection, placed for maximum defensibility. Cody was impressed before he even landed. After making Sen and the others promise not to do anything he wouldn’t, Cody and his team disembarked and were surprised to find that no one looked at them twice. The landing pad was sparsely populated, most beings simply going about their business. They were made to stand awkwardly for a while before someone took pity on their excess of decorum and escorted them inside. By now, the sky had darkened and the intricate glowing designs inlaid into the walls and floors revealed themselves. Cody recognized the visual retelling of the _Dha Werda Verda_. Somebody with a lot of time and skill must have poured thousands of hours of love into this compound.

The master of the compound was busy, their guide explained, but living quarters for the eight clones had already been prepared. Cody exchanged weary glances with his _vode_ , prepared to protest and negotiate with generous nat-born hosts who were so often unaware of the fact that most clones could not stand to be alone. They were pleasantly surprised, however, by their spacious communal accommodations. Enough for each to have their personal space and belongings and remain in close proximity to one another, and so much more tastefully decorated than any GAR barracks. Someone had done their research. Cody thanked the guide, exuding the kind of proud appreciation he used to give towards shinies who had done something particularly impressive in battle. 

“What’s your name?” Cody remembered to ask, just as they were leaving.

“Starburst,” they replied. 

Cody smiled fondly. He had known a few Starbursts during the war. It wasn’t a common name for nat-borns.

Even with the Archive Master off-world, Cody and the others were quickly put to work building an archive on the Clone Wars. Who better to tell that history than the clones themselves? Between gleefully immortalizing his memories and exploring the compound like an unsupervised child in a toy store, it took Cody an embarrassingly long time to realize that the 8 clones from the 212th were not the only contributors to the primary source archives. Every day, dozens of humans input data on battalions and battle tactics. They knew far too much to be civilians, but Cody hoped he would recognize nat-born officers. Perhaps they were support staff, or even ex-Jedi. Cody watched them, the way they worked together seamlessly, as they listed clone troopers of every rank by name. People who looked like any other group of humans, with names like Starburst and Clue and Arrow and Chatterbox.

They were clones. Cody confirmed his suspicion over caf with Starburst. They had grown close in a week, sharing an innate drive for knowledge and truth and even battle stories, although carefully and without too many specifics. The familiarity he had found so easily finally made sense. The thing was, Starburst’s resemblance to Jango Fett was that of a distant cousin at best. There were 26 of them, he had explained, from nearly as many battalions. Most were the last ones remaining of their original 9-person squads. All had had their bodies and faces surgically altered and all bio-chips removed to help them avoid detection. Cody felt immense relief at the realization that he had little explaining to do when it came to why he was here. Not only did they know about the chips, they had managed to remove theirs, with the full knowledge and support of the Archive Master. For once in his life, Cody had a good feeling about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on Names:
> 
> Extra - a poet by nature, everyone thought his fancy way of speaking was excessive but they all secretly admire how he was able to turn it into a career


	13. Manda, 7961 C.R.C. / 16 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol use, non-graphic mentions of sex

Cody had heard much about Ebenn Q3 Baobab before actually meeting him. He could fathom the profile of elderly, exorbitantly wealthy, enviously talented and unashamedly brilliant. The claims that he was also a three-time war hero, best-selling author, doctor, linguist, space explorer and artist were harder to believe. Could one person really accomplish so much in a lifetime? 

Ebenn had swept into the archives unannounced one day, dressed extravagantly and seeming to glow with happiness upon having returned home. He knew who Cody was and expressed intrigue regarding some of his more risky victories. Of course, that wasn’t why the 212th was here. Unfortunately for them, his cousin Teoni was right: there were no droids left capable of performing the delicate surgery they sought. The clones under his employ had simply been in the right place at the right time, having deserted or been abandoned before the end of the war or immediately after. As a medical professional, Ebenn himself claimed that for the kind of surgery they were seeking, human hands would be too unsteady without robotic assistance. If they were going the route of organic surgeons, they would need Frigosians, Ho’dinn, or perhaps trained Force healers unaffiliated with the Empire. 

Cody took a moment to catch his breath after the avalanche of information that was his first formal introduction to the Archive Master. Analysis of this new dataset revealed no less than 14 pertinent questions, and Cody realized as he stood there gawking that it would be polite to chose one.

“If you were able to remove the chips before, what changed since then and why?” Cody consolidated the hyper storm of questions in his mind to the best of his ability. 

“Ah, well see, we had the necessary facilities and were able to act as soon as the truth about the chips went public,” Ebenn began, once again leaving Cody in the dust.

“I had the foresight to alter the physical identities of the clones as well. I thought, if someone engineered these clones to be mindless tools, then they cannot be free as long as they are clones. We changed their facial features, height, retinas, fingerprints, ears, teeth, and in some cases, natal sex - they won’t register as clones with anything short of a DNA analysis. And, what do you know, I was right! I thought someone might come looking for them, and eventually the Empire did. They tried to cover up the whole conspiracy, that’s why you won’t find anything about it on the Imperial holonet, and, more importantly, they’ve all but erased the ability for any clones privy to the nature of the chips to remove them.”

Once again, Cody absorbed everything the man said without blinking, which Ebenn noticed.

“I wonder, is that a quirk of your template or an acquired habit?” he mused.

“What?” Cody replied intelligently.

“You seem to forget to blink when deep in thought.”

Cody had always just assumed that dry eyes were a side effect of deep focus. If his _vode_ experienced the same, he had never thought to ask.

“Would you allow me to study this in the other unaltered clones?”

“It’s up to them, sir.”

“Please, call me EQ3, all my friends do. Now, in exchange for your valuable contributions, knowledge, skills, and the potential opportunity to study clone reflexes, I am going to offer you unlimited access to any databanks you are curious about.” Teo had said he might be willing, but Cody had never expected this level of generosity.

“Do you have anything on…” what had Teo called it? “Amidala-Organa sentient rights…” he trailed off, unsure of the exact wording.

“Excellent choice. I take it Teoni gave you the tip?” Ebenn passed Cody multiple data cylinders, apparently access codes to various libraries. Cody’s head was buzzing with such excitement that he almost forgot to respond.

“Thank you, sir,” Cody managed, slightly out of breath.

“Thank you, commander. I look forward to meeting your siblings, so I have arranged a banquet for the entire facility in celebration of my return. Can I expect you there?”

Of course. Cody and his siblings were never ones to refuse free food. Ebenn already knew that.

—-

Cody made his rounds that afternoon, efficiently soaking up every bit of information like a dry sponge. It was a good thing, too, because even the preserved pre-Empire files were woefully incomplete. If Idi’jil were with him to help sort through this mess of names and dates, he’d likely have been done before dinner, but alas. Puzzle or Boil would have been just as competent but with the excitement of the banquet hovering over them, they had run off to go shopping. Cody entered the banquet with a preoccupied mind and underdressed body.

“Where have you been, _vod_?” Lark called him over to where she, Turbo and Verd were socializing loudly with some of the other archivists. 

“Trying to save our _shebs_ ,” he mumbled as he accepted and downed the drink he was offered. That was a mistake. The alcohol stung, but he would not wince. He would not cough. Instead, he would retreat somewhere with an under-density of sentient beings and try to pass the tears in his eyes off as the result of him thoroughly enjoying very spicy food. There was no spicy food to be found.

This was the kind of event where Kenobi would have been right in his element. The last time Cody was at an event like this, undercover as Kenobi’s bodyguard, he had been bored out of his mind. Kenobi, to Cody’s shock, had dove right in and appeared to get very drunk. He’d said it was an act, that Jedi could filter toxins from their blood, that Cody should loosen up. That was something the other _vode_ seemed to have no trouble doing. All around him, jokes and laughter. Retellings of things that really should be classified-except the war was over. _Fierfek_ ’s sake, they were flirting. Successfully. Cody’s stomach seized up in terror at the sight of Lark kissing that man she’d just met. Actually, he didn’t know when they’d met, but he had to douse the fire of his overprotectiveness with some kind of sickeningly sweet fruit juice and remind himself that Lark was an adult, a capable soldier like him, and apparently very enthusiastic about what was happening. He still locked eyes with her, exuding worry, and only let her go when he was certain her smile was genuine.

Kenobi used to flirt, had even tried to teach Cody. The lessons never took. Was he still out there, smooth-talking his way out of tricky situations, flirting with his enemies? The sudden image of Obi-Wan Kenobi making bedroom eyes at that towering black-caped monstrosity of a Sith Lord had him spitting his drink. Cody added Kenobi’s fate to the long list of things he had to look up before he left this treasure trove of knowledge. Everything he had ever wondered about was here. What was life in the galaxy like before he and his brethren were released into it? What caused their accelerated aging? Why were clones widely regarded as biologically sterile? Was it normal for him to feel horror and disgust at the prospect of romantic affection? Finally, access to all the knowledge in the worlds and no need to be judged for asking awkward questions. This was his reward for his service, and he deserved it.

“Hey, Cody,” Starburst found his secluded hiding spot and brought an entire serving platter of something with him.

“Try these, they’re really good,” he said through a mouthful. At least Cody wasn’t the only one here with horrible manners.

It was some sort of meat-filled pastry, crispy and chewy and delectably aromatic. Cody ate the whole platter, finally realizing how hungry he was. Hours of research and not eating really took it out of him.

“Wanna hit the archives later?” Starburst was somehow the answer to all of Cody’s current anxieties.

“You know I do,” Cody beamed, radiating appreciation for his observant and disciplined friend. He was such a relief compared to the chaos of his _vode_ , who would surely be too drunk to help him if they kept going at this rate.

“Let’s ditch,” Starburst took the platter and offered a hand to help Cody stand.

Others were ditching too, and Cody had a feeling their sleeping quarters would be rather vacant tonight. Not that he was planning on using them. Cody caught Sarad’s eyes and tilted his head sharply towards a few _vode_ who were stumbling off with their partners. Sarad nodded. He was made of tougher stuff than Cody, and would ensure they practiced safe sex under penalty of a medic’s wrath.

Starburst was humming cheerily, apparently invigorated by the late hour much like Cody. He swiped them into the library and immediately threw himself into a screaming frenzy at the poor librarian who was about to clean up Cody’s collected texts. She huffed and turned away with none of the panic Cody would have expected, implying this sort of thing happened somewhat regularly. Cody only stared coldly at Starburst’s beaming grin, silently asking him to please never do that again. His teeth really were different. Cody wondered if they were organic or artificial.

“Alright! Amidala-Organa Sentient Rights Summit! Seriously, _vod_ , this is one of my favorite things. These senators were rather influential during the Clone Wars and actually formed a coalition of anti-war politicians, but they were also the only ones fighting at the Senatorial level to get us clones sentient rights recognized by the Republic.”

Padmé Amidala and Bail Prestor Organa. Cody knew them. The war had not ended cleanly on Coruscant, but the Delegation of 2000 had ultimately forced the Sith Lord off-world and declared the Empire illegitimate. In the first days after the end of the war, the truth about Palpatine, the Clone Army and order 66 was publicized and thousands of clones, newly granted Republic citizenship, voluntarily removed their chips. Thousands more unexpectedly joined the Empire and, in a show of military might, wiped out Coruscant’s communications and crippled the holonet. No wonder Cody hadn’t been able to get any news on Utapau.

While the holonet recovered, it was through the efforts of the now Imperial-allied former Separatist systems, rife with censorship and propaganda. Someone very powerful clearly still had influence within the Republic, for all droids capable of performing bio-chip extraction were recalled from the market without explanation and any governmental efforts to replace the recalled models were crushed with improbable efficiency. They really weren’t safe anywhere.

Cody pulled out his comm, in direct violation of the posted signs banning vocal communicators in the library, and sent a message to the _Jate’kara_ with great reluctance. He was pleasantly surprised to receive a return message, a letter sent from Uli and the others, complete with drawings. He’d have to print it and hang it above his bunk, and the library was just the place to do that. Ukid would no doubt never let him live this down, but he would deal with that tomorrow.

Hanging upside-down in his pilot’s chair as the ship hung in low orbit, the slowly crystallizing oppression of boredom that threatened to freeze Sen alive was mercifully shattered by an incoming transmission. Urgent, from Cody. That’s right, he had a message for Cody too. He sent off the data packet and opened the message, which was addressed to Ukid.

Cody had wired them a substantial amount of money, accompanied by a written message:

Mission to Kamino authorized. Return planetside and rendezvous with Mey’s group. Purchase a ship from Teoni Baobab and take as many volunteers as you need.

Ukid was gonna love this.


	14. Kamino, 7961 C.R.C. / 16 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-graphic mentions of sex and non-consensual medical procedures

As expected, Ukid jumped at his chance. He bought a snazzy KST-100 at a decent markdown, a luxury passenger freighter with minimal space dedicated to an actual flight crew. Teoni joked that the Yos triplets certainly liked to change their hair. Their presence no longer needed in this sector, Mey’s team bid farewell to their young tax-evading friends and hightailed it to the Archives. Ukid’s first volunteers came from the _Jate’kara_ : Nau’ur and Nerra were hungry for some action. Sen, though eager to bring justice to the clones on Kamino, elected to remain because with Nau’ur gone there was no one he trusted enough to pilot his ship.

Cody must have been deliberately avoiding meeting Ukid face-to-face. He claimed exhaustion from a sleepless, research-filled night. The three _vode_ who excitedly told him of how they’d had sleepless nights filled with their first sexual encounters had no such problem. Cody would come around eventually, he didn’t have it in him to send people on what could be a one-way mission without seeing them off. He was just prolonging their departure out of spite at this point. Ukid now knew what to name his new ship. The I-Told-You-So.

Verd, Ash and Turbo joined the team. This kind of mission had always been Turbo’s favorite, and Ash’s knowledge of the facility would certainly be of use. Verd reasoned that facing reconditioning in a place where he knew the outcome and could do some good for others was better than contending with the unknown, and had a history of brilliant improvisation. Together, the six of them made a team with a well-rounded skill set. Now, all they needed was Cody’s go-ahead. He wasn’t answering his comm, nor did he have his tracker on. The sun was high in the sky by the time the waiting _vode_ decided they’d had enough and began a search. Cody was managing to evade them quite well, everyone they asked either hadn’t seen him or said he’d been heading towards them. Eventually, Ukid found him in the cargo hold of the _Jate’kara_.

“How long have you been in there?” Ukid leaned against the door, casting an imposing shadow into the small closet where Cody was rummaging around. Honestly, how had it managed to get so cluttered since he’d cleaned everything out on Mon Gazza?

Cody decided that particular question wasn’t important and instead beckoned for Ukid to come inside. It was even more cramped with two bodies. He had opened several crates and dragged out two sets of stormtrooper armor. Ukid saw what he was getting at. 

“There’s a third in here somewhere.”

“Aww, Cody, you do care.”

“Have you assembled your team?”

“Yeah. Me, Nau’ur, Ash, Verd, Nerra and Turbo.”

Cody chewed his lip as he nodded in approval. 

“Found it!” Ukid dragged the three armor sets into the hallway. They were much lighter than he was used to, and he wondered how well they actually worked.

Outside, the _vode_ were exchanging farewells, and Cody had to double take at the ship Ukid had chosen. Unwieldy, bright red, practically enough passenger space for each team member to have a whole stateroom to themselves. 

“You’re sure this is the best choice?”

“Relax, we have less conspicuous landing craft.”

“Aren’t you going to ask what I named it?” Ukid prompted after a pause, as Nau’ur and Nerra loaded the armor on board.

“Fine, what did you name it?”

“I-Told-You-So,” Ukid whispered close to Cody’s ear. 

Cody smacked his head and drew him in for a fierce embrace. “Just get the chips out, _vod_.”

“When have I ever let you down?”

It was just two straight jumps from Manda to Kamino. Once they left Rishi, they’d be going silent. After a brief exchange of necessary information and repetitions of “ _ret’urcye mhi_,” they were gone.

\---

There really was too much space on the new ship. Nau’ur was the only person aboard who was comfortable, having crammed herself into the barely adequate cockpit. The others were having to deal with whatever the opposite of claustrophobia was as they played holographic _cu’bikad_ in an unlit storage closet, clutching flashlights in their teeth. Ukid insisted they needed the space, but it was far more than enough for a few droids. 

The dim old star of the Kamino system was easily outshone by other, far more distant stars. Looming in dark blue shadow was Big Stormy itself. It was not easy to spot, especially if one didn’t know it was there, and Nau’ur understood now how Obi-Wan could have lost it. She smoothly brought the I-Told-You-So into a high enough orbit that the planetary patrols wouldn’t send anything after them, and alerted the others that they had arrived. When no answer came, she searched the ship and found them asleep in a pile on the floor of a closet. 

“Wake up,” Nau’ur repeatedly poked Turbo with a single finger until he stirred.

“Are we there yet?”

“Yes, we’re there yet. Get ready, optimal approach vector coming up in T-minus 3:15. Miss it and wait another 810 hours.”

“Five more minutes.”

The clones discussed strategy as they ate. Turbo, Ukid and Verd were to take the stolen stormtrooper armor and enter Tipoca City under the guise of troopers sent back from the field for reconditioning due to amnesiac episodes. Ash would be their covert ground support, in direct communication with Ukid’s team and positioned to facilitate slicing maneuvers and redirect surveillance. Nerra was to commandeer escape shuttles, leaving Nau’ur to hold the fort in orbit, shutting down whenever the I-Told-You-So came within range of the outpost on the moon of Korasa. 

When the I-Told-You-So fell into position, the team departed in their streamlined, unmarked shuttle - little more than a glorified escape pod. It fell like space junk and crashed into the waves below. Nau’ur’s calculations had been on point. The tiny hydrodynamic pod propelled itself towards the surface until they reached atmospheric pressure. Ascending slowly in their surprisingly buoyant armor, the clones resurfaced, tethered themselves together like they had during training, and let the currents carry them to the base of the stilts. Then, they climbed. 

The new armor was not as well-equipped as the phase II armor. They had grappling hooks, but not magnetized boots. While the environmental controls made the transition from orbit to ocean depths to surface seamless, Ash and Nerra easily climbed ahead, unhindered by the bulk of the armor. 

The layout hadn’t changed much since they were last here as cadets. Ash even found that his clearance codes still worked to get him into the comms center. They’d know he was here now, and if anyone double checked they’d be able to see that he hadn’t accessed the Tipoca City network in six years. The clock was ticking, so Ukid led the way as the three in stormtrooper armor marched right in, Nerra following at a distance.

It didn’t take long before the stormtrooper impostors encountered a patrol. The trooper was young, probably only 9 standard, and utterly perplexed as to how the three had managed to access this part of the facility.

“Haven’t you ever fallen off the platforms?” Verd asked as if it was a common occurrence. 

The young officer drew his chin towards his chest, conveying uncertainty through his helmet. Cadets fell off the platforms, not fully grown troopers. 

“And you didn’t comm anyone for help?”

“Nah, figured they wouldn’t care anyways since we’re slated for termination. Just wanted to take a walk. Which way back to the brig?”

Clearly these men were defective, but the nonchalant way they talked about the grim prospect of their own unceremonious deaths sickened the young man. No trooper he knew took decommissioning so lightly, he’d only heard of this kind of cynical attitude in veterans. 

“I’m gonna need to see some ID.” 

He scanned each of the troopers’ left wrists and was shocked at the results. They were indeed veterans, perhaps even deployed while Jango Fett was still alive. They were also from the 212th, a battalion that had gone silent with no explanation three years ago, presumed destroyed. He took them straight to the brig for questioning. 

Once locked up, Ash got them back out and they took to wandering the halls. They didn’t stand out in the slightest in their standard prison garb, for hundreds of other identical troopers were doing the same. A buzzer sounded, and they simply fell in with the others as they returned to their cells.

“What are you in for?” Verd asked no one in particular. The other six stared at him blankly, probably trying to put a name to his slight variations from the standard template. 

“When did you get in?” one with a scarred face and a gravelly voice asked Verd in turn.

“Eh, can’t really remember, but it can’t have been that long ago. Me, I keep forgetting stuff, accidentally disclosed classified information to some rebels…or were they Separatists…anyway I’m back here now, probably gonna be reconditioned.”

The others looked at him warily. Everyone here knew that reconditioning was code for lethal injection. The only reason they’d been kept alive this long was because the scientists thought they had something valuable.

“So what about you guys?”

“Disobeyed orders.”

“Oh, neat, which ones?” Verd sounded entirely too happy for everyone’s comfort.

“Remember order 66, old timer?”

“Oh, yeah, I disobeyed that one too! Haha! They never found out, though. Unless I accidentally told them.”

This was apparently intriguing. Someone called a guard to the cell, demanding to know why this particular trooper was here. Once again, Verd was outed as 212th and sat calmly through the awed judgement of his fellow inmates and the guard. One in particular was looking at him with absolute hateful disgust. Verd returned his stare as wild theories as to how he had ended up here were thrown around the cell. Still, they seemed concerned for his life, and apparently all held the belief that the Kaminoans would spare him if they knew his value.

“If you’re going to talk to the _kaminii_ , make sure they find my brothers too,” Verd addressed the guard as he left. 

Some of the others guffawed at his brazen request while the one in the back continued to leech icy malice. Verd watched and listened as another clone talked to Mr. Grumpy in hushed tones. The way Mr. Grumpy looked at Verd had him wondering if he was someone he knew. He was about Verd’s own age, and the pallor of his skin suggested he hadn’t actually seen the field in a while. Verd hadn’t joined the 212th until the First Battle of Felucia, and hadn’t gone out of his way to make enemies. Maybe this guy had him confused for someone else.

“212th, huh?” Mr. Grumpy finally broke the charged silence. “Cody still alive?” he growled.

“What do you have against my boy?” Verd retorted uneasily.

“He’s the reason I’m here,” he rose threateningly, eyes wild. Verd squinted at him, refusing to budge even as the others surrounded them in anticipation of a fight. Cody commanded thousands of troopers so it made sense that he’d have a few enemies in the ranks, but he’d never heard of Cody getting a brother arrested before. 

“What did you do?” Verd was legitimately curious and it showed in his blatant disregard for the current threat to his bodily safety.

“I failed,” he spat, and Verd flinched. “I took a chance on my freedom, on all our freedom, and that bastard Cody betrayed me and turned me in.”

“And they’re just keeping you here? Why?”

“Studying our defects,” another clone spoke up, “At first they just kept us as organ and tissue donors, but once the Imperials arrived, they were suddenly very interested in what made us disobey orders. They’re trying to copy it to make another army, one that isn’t loyal to the Empire.”

Verd’s eyebrows had nearly risen into his hairline. 

“So, do you want out? Some _vode_ and I have been living free since the end of the war, I’m actually just here to steal some med droids and get the chips out of our heads that were supposed to make us obey order 66.” 

All of this was apparently news to the imprisoned clones, whose reactions varied even though their expressions almost exactly matched Verd’s. He had some explaining to do. In the other cells, his brothers were doing much the same, and soon 130 clones were in on a plan to steal some med droids and get out.


	15. Kamino, 7961 C.R.C. / 16 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions of medical torture, slavery, and unsafe work environments, character death

Nau’ur wasn’t entirely sure why she was crying, but the way her tears clung to her face in ever expanding orbs as she floated past Korasa was utterly fascinating. She was bundled in several layers of blankets despite not actually being cold, the pressure and tension a small comfort in the beautiful, oppressive loneliness of space. Clones tended to panic when cut off from others, she knew this, yet she had signed up anyways. 

Experiencing zero-G was a rare opportunity, one she took advantage of by flinging herself through the recycled air and pretending to fly. Her tears were beginning to blind her, and she tried to pull them off her face to no avail. No wonder one could drown in their own space suit. Luckily, the blankets were absorbent enough to save her. Drowning in her own tears would be an embarrassing way to die, second only to being strangled by her own bra. 

Every once in a while, she sat back in the pilot’s chair and marked the apparent position of Korasa on the viewport to gauge her distance and velocity. 34 minutes and she would be safely out of range of the outpost, able to power up again. 34 minutes of trying to arm wrestle herself and wondering if the higher than standard gravity on Kamino would make her taller than her brothers once they returned. 

Approximately 34 minutes later, Nau’ur double checked her position, relieved to find that she was set to power up. She got something like a head rush without standing as her body fluids fell back into her legs. The systems rebooted, and she was overjoyed to find an incoming transmission from Ash. Finally, human contact. 

0647 — Prison break initiated. Stand by to receive 130 passengers and droids.

“Hm,” was all she could say to that.

—-

The Kaminoans were underestimating the clones again.

While aware of the presence of three unauthorized prisoners, they hadn’t actually attempted to identify them and so they remained hidden amongst their brothers. Apparently the group inside the prison was so volatile that the Kaminoans feared them and would not interact with individual clones without first sedating them. Ash’s quick thinking had the sedative gas systems to the cells disabled, but the prison was now surrounded by guards at all entrances and they were more or less at a stalemate. 

The Kaminoan government must have been truly desperate. Ukid figured that from their point of view, they were investing valuable resources in keeping dangerous clones alive in hopes of extracting something that could overpower the Imperial presence. Capture of Kamino had been swift, the cloning facilities seized and fortified against attack to protect the production of future stormtroopers. Rumor had it that a new project was underway, separate from the stormtrooper project. A Kaminoan army, grown from a modified version of the Fett template: spliced together from the most independent and ruthless first-generation clones. Said clones were all held here, mostly commandos and those who had been captured after defecting or disobeying direct orders.

The kind soul who was always the first to urge Mr. Grumpy to stand down was called Scorch, a former commando tasked with hunting down clone deserters and Jedi after the rise of the Empire. Disillusioned with the war after a mission gone wrong and forced to commit horrendous acts soon after, Scorch had convinced his remaining squad mates to run when the Empire was taking heat on Coruscant. All three were immediately captured and sent to Agon Nine. Knowing that they had disobeyed order 66, the Kaminoans had bought them and four others from the prison world for exorbitant amounts of money, apparently escaping the Empire’s notice.

Mr. Grumpy was called Slick, a man who had sold out Republic intelligence for a chance at freedom during the battle of Christophsis. Slick had seen the truth of their situation from the beginning, slaves to a Republic that sent them to die for nothing in return. He still blamed Cody for not seeing the truth and turning his back on him, but Turbo knew otherwise. Slick’s crime was originally enough to warrant a death sentence, but someone from higher up had commuted it to something, anything less severe. Turbo suspected it had been Cody.

Slick had escaped a swift death only to be quietly trafficked to Kamino, where they had probed every part of him trying to find the source of his disloyalty and taken his very lifeblood to sustain others on the field. Hundreds of others here had suffered the same fate, but Slick stood out. He had been here longer than anyone else and still refused to break. If anything, the prolonged torture had only fueled his vitriol. It was nearly time for him to use it to fight back.

For a while, the three members of the 212th along with the 130 other prisoners pretended to cooperate with the scientists as Nerra and Ash prepared for their escape. Ukid came to believe that the scientists actually felt something for them, the kind of love one had for a pet project or a really cool speeder. They used this to their advantage and were able to demonstrate that they were decidedly anti-Empire, even with their chips, but stopped short of killing another clone. It wasn’t his fault that he was a stormtrooper. 

“Loyalty to other clones must be overcome,” Nala Se noted coldly, looking pointedly at Slick. He sneered back. It wasn’t disloyalty to other clones that had governed his actions, though he would never tell her that. 

“Perhaps if you removed the inhibitor chips?” Turbo suggested, disgusted with himself for even entertaining the idea that it would enable him to kill brothers. He was doing this for them, he repeated in his mind.

“Unacceptable.”

“Not even just some of us, so you could compare results?”

“The sample size would be too small for an effective field study. In any case, the chips are essential in controlling your violent behavior; it would be unsafe to remove them in already uncooperative clones.” 

It was a half-truth. The chips controlled their violent behavior, just not by inhibiting it. 

“Are you really still going with that s-” Turbo choked on his words as another clone frantically covered his mouth. Nala Se regarded him with eerily wide eyes, then turned and left.

“She won’t kill you if she can’t prove you know,” the other trooper, Dogma, whispered.

Dogma was only 14, with long, curly hair and hands that shook. They said he’d shot a Jedi without authorization, and one of this brothers did the same several months later. The Kaminoans had recalled all surviving members of their batch from the frontlines to isolate what they assumed was a defect related to the chip, and 13 of them now made up a significant portion of the imprisoned. Truthfully, they had nothing that the Kaminoans were interested in, and had fought to keep each other alive this long through strategic cooperation. Dogma and his batch mates were proof that the Kaminoans would fail to engineer loyalty, because the clones’ loyalty to each other was something they had built for themselves.

—-

So far, Ash and Nerra had managed to avoid detection by stealthily deleting their records and replacing their ID chips with those of dead clones, aided by maintenance workers they had promised to help escape. Ash, Nerra and the maintenance clones were hard at work, spontaneously adopting shuttles and medical droids in a random sequence to lessen their chances of discovery. Ash’s official age was now 8, his designation CT-43/67-390. CT-43/67-390 hadn’t even had a name yet, had died working in unsafe conditions to rapidly expand the cloning facility’s capacity under Imperial supervision. Ash would honor him by using his number to bring freedom to as many as he could.

No one questioned the maintenance clones. They had been a common fixture in the facilities since the beginning of the GAR cloning project, ensuring everything ran as smoothly as possible. Though unfit for battle, they served their purpose and were considered family like any other brother. The Imperial overseers disagreed. To them, standard clones were cannon fodder and maintenance clones even less. Nerra was certain that 99 would have stayed and fought quietly for those who couldn’t defend themselves, but these eight were done. 

They were all in position to shut down the prison defense systems. They’d need a big distraction to make it back to the ships, and they were counting on Ukid to seize this opportunity to create just such a disturbance. With their coordinated shutoff of the main power and all the prison’s failsafes complete, they moved slowly and quietly as ever towards the launch pad, through the red glow of emergency lights, the blaring of sirens and the hurried marching of armored feet. 

The ray shields surrounding the prison cells shut off, pale blue replaced by the red of emergency lights. The automated dead bolting of the main entrance never came. Ukid stood from his card game on the floor. It was time.

“Hey, everyone! Move it!” he shouted, and those around him relayed the order. 

Nerra was broadcasting his current location in code over the tower’s central comms system. Ukid made straight for those coordinates, the rest following him in steadfast formation. From the outside, they could have been confused for one of the platoons moving to secure the prison. The prisoners flooded onto the launch pad and filled the transports past capacity, never stopping. One after the other, the spherical ships made for orbit even as the anti-aircraft cannons began firing on them. 

It was easy for Slick to fall back into the one-track mindset of battle, even after so long. Complete the mission. Move. Strap in and fly. Don’t stop for anything. Not the lasers ionizing the air around him, so close that he could feel the static charge from inside the ship. Focus on the stars growing steadily brighter, even through the blinding explosion of another transport being ripped apart before his eyes. How many had been on that ship? How many were they leaving behind on Kamino? Slick docked with the I-Told-You-So, but remained strapped into his seat after the last person had clamored speechlessly to disembark. 

“Slick!” someone was shouting. Scorch. Thank the stars he was alive.

“Get out. I’m going back,” Slick decided. Scorch tackled him out of his chair.

“I am not leaving you. The Empire is here, we have to go. We need the shuttles as a diversion,” Scorch was dragging Slick into the main hull as someone else rushed past to program the shuttle. 

Scorch was incredibly strong. Slick resisted, kicking and biting and demanding to be released, until someone hit him with a sedative stim. With that, his mind turned to aiwha brain soup and all his repressed emotions came crashing forth like a triple-moon tidal wave. 

Slick wasn’t the only one wailing. Others had suffered electrical burns when the magnetic field of glancing cannon fire had ripped through the shuttles. The headcount revealed that six had been lost in the explosion. Striker, Trace, Zuma, Three-Eight, Kam and Belts were gone. There was plenty to be distraught over, but all Slick could comprehend was that he had failed to secure his brothers’ freedom again. There were other prisoners, and the Kaminoans would not be so merciful to them now that their lenience had caused a prison break. There were thousands of cadets, destined for slavery just like him, only to masters far more cruel. He wept for them all.

Currently occupied with a number of pressing issues, several dozen new _vode_ placed their trust in Nau’ur. Her strategy to send the shuttles as if to attack the Star Destroyer had bought her just enough time to jump. The last she had seen of realspace was the utter annihilation of the 21 stolen shuttles, proof that they would not stand a chance facing the Empire head on. With their course locked, Nau’ur exited the cockpit for the first time in the 18 hours since Ash’s message. The common area was a mess, clones in various states of injury, panic, euphoria, and consciousness absolutely covering the floor. Med droids were assisting those in critical condition, and it dawned on her. They’d done it. She found her brothers and embraced them as they shook. They’d all made it.

Others weren’t so lucky. Overwhelmed by the adrenaline, the prospect of freedom, and the jarring loss of their _vode_ , some had simply passed out. Others had to be restrained until they were stable, lest they hurt themselves in their anguish. Their victory had been hollowed by loss and uncertainty. The jump back to Manda was quiet save for the sound of the engines and the breathing and occasional weeping of the troopers. Nau’ur lowered herself to the floor beside an unresponsive clone whose name she did not know. He had been tending to a now unconscious brother and sat in shock. The Empire and the Kaminoans had done this to her family, and for that, they would all burn.


	16. Manda, 7961 C.R.C. / 16 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-graphic wrist and brain surgery

Sarad was singing to himself as he made tea from flowers he had collected, his wonderful girlfriend still asleep as the bright morning rays filled her airy, plant-filled apartment. His immersion in the heavenly scent of the tea was rudely disrupted by a frantic knock on the door. He paused for a moment, wondering whether he should wake Arya, or if he should have his blaster ready, and what kind of person did either of them know who would knock so insistently this early in the morning? Sarad could only think of one. 

Arya’s door had a tiny one-way viewport, and through it, he spied none other than Cody. That was a slight relief. He looked grumpy, though not distressed. Just normal Cody, hopefully. 

“Give me just a second, _vod_ ,” he said through the door, then went to make sure Arya was decent and alright with Cody coming inside. 

She was sprawled out on the bed with the sheets tangled all around her, squinting in her sleep against the bright beam of sunlight that now laid across her face. Sarad adjusted the curtains, pressed a warm kiss to the _qukuuf_ at her forehead, and waited for her to wake. 

“What?”

“My brother’s here, he’s looking pretty grumpy so he probably wants to talk. Can I let him in?” 

“Mhm,” Arya hummed and turned over.

“Also, I made you tea.”

Cody was checking his comm when Sarad finally opened the door. Rumor had it there had been a prison break at one of the facilities on Kamino, information the archivists had snagged before the Imperials scrubbed it from record. He should be hearing from Ukid and the others any time now. 

“Come in,” Sarad murmured. Cody hadn’t even heard him open the door. 

“Tea?” 

Cody nodded, putting his comm away and setting a box on the counter. Sarad regarded it inquisitively over the rim of his mug.

“Surgical tools,” Cody explained as he accepted his own mug. “I want you to remove my ID chip.”

“You don’t trust the medics at the archives?” 

Cody actually squirmed a bit at that. 

“I’ll do it. Just not here, Arya can’t stand the smell of human blood.”

—-

Cody took Sarad back to the archives in his pathetic excuse for a speeder. It was a quick surgery, superficial, even. Sarad was even able to repeat it with a few other _vode_. With a bacta patch around his wrist like an ironic fashion statement, Cody went on with his day. CC-2224 was now dead to the galaxy. 

He’d hoped getting that over with would bring relief, but his anxiety only mounted as he wandered the paths through the archives while obsessively checking his messages. No word from Ukid. If they had made it out, they’d likely reach Rishi within 12 standard hours. No need to panic yet, he attempted to reason. He jumped as the comm pinged in his hand. 

“Cody,” he answered, but was interrupted by excited shouting from the other end. Too high-pitched to be his _vode_. He turned on the hologram and smiled at the image of Rola adjusting the holocam as the kids crowded in around her. 

“Cody!” Miyana squealed in unison. Zo’dira and Uli were play-fighting over their spot beside Rola while Ili made faces into the camera.

“Hello,” he said with his smile in his voice. “How is everyone?”

“Cody! You should come celebrate the new year with us! There’s gonna be a festival!” Uli shouted from somewhere below the camera’s field of view.

“I’ve never celebrated the new year before,” Cody replied, even as his smile turned sad. “That would be really fun.”

“Can you show us the picture paths again?” Zo’dira interrupted. 

That he could. Cody turned the camera towards his feet and re-told the story inlaid into the path, one of the seven known kubaz creation myths. This section of the archives was devoted to “cultural phenomena,” as Ebenn called them. Cody had even made his own contribution in the form of the pamphlet he’d received on Gactimus. Maybe one day that story would be inlaid in glowing stone, and he could show the kids in person. Although, the phrase “dead as a Triton moon” wasn’t entirely baseless, and they might find a religion that preached against all forms of entertainment rather boring. Perhaps they’d prefer the origin stories the clones had come up with. 

Uli glared at Cody through the projection. Not only had he given her a vague answer, he was telling the story wrong. Grown-ups could be so easily distracted. Before Rola could disconnect, she grabbed the projector and Cody’s attention. 

“I know you have important grown up stuff to do but you have to give me an answer. Not now, but you have to. A real answer. Promise.”

“I-I’m sorry, Uli, I can tell this is important to you. I promise I’ll give you a real answer soon.” 

Even from another hemisphere, it was like she could read his mind. She was right, of course. He wasn’t paying enough attention to anything. A part of him urged that being so unfocused could mean life or death. He was safe now, he reminded his subconscious. At least, safe from blaster fire and bioweapons and explosive decompression in the vacuum of space and most forms of blunt force trauma. He could still be Commander Cody, decorated war hero and survivor of the Clone Wars, who died when he tripped over a pebble because he was distracted waiting for a comm. He decided to sit down. 

What if they hadn't made it? What if they never got the chips out? He deserved some good news at this point, didn’t he? There had been good news, his rational side argued. They were making great progress with the archives, ensuring they would be remembered for more than the name of the war. Just this morning, he had visited Sarad, who had skillfully eliminated one of Cody’s major worries with compassion and no questions asked. Parjai was a healthy little miracle, one who was helping save the lives of his _ba’vodue_ suffering from mysterious degeneration. There was even the possibility that the baby's genome could help identify the sequences responsible for the continued rapid aging. Mak might live to see his child grow up. After everything, they might just be ok.

The sun was annoyingly bright, but to get up carried the risk of encountering other people who wanted him to do something for them and missing the comm, so Cody diligently stayed put. The fresh air was good for him, he decided. He was taking care of his health, so no one should criticize him. His comm buzzed, and he answered it so quickly that he didn’t register moving his hand until he felt his fresh incision sting in protest. There it was, a hologram of his sister clutched in his palm, white bandage wrapped around his wrist below it. 

“Nau’ur,” he said breathlessly, pressure building behind his eyes that he blinked away slowly. 

She looked exhausted, and the sight of Cody’s face made her own tears fall. This time, there was no risk of drowning.

“Cody, we did it,” her voice broke, but she could not hide her smile. 

“Plotting the jump now. I have 137 passengers aboard, 45 injured, and seven fully functional AZI-units tending to those in critical condition,” her voice relaxed as she switched over to speaking statistics. “Get ready, _vod_ , see you soon.”

With that over with, Cody was immediately overcome with exhaustion. Was this what being old felt like? By his estimates, he was only about 38, though it was hard to tell since he had all his adult teeth. No matter, he’d gotten up early, 1300 was a perfectly acceptable time to go to sleep. As he walked to his shared quarters with a giddiness at odds with his fatigue, he had a rather pleasing realization. He’d be able to accept Uli’s invitation after all. 

—-

The banging sounds of cannon fire in Cody’s dream gradually morphed into the banging sounds of his annoying brother ramming into his bunk. 

“What the actual kriff,” he mumbled, only half aware of his surroundings. 

“They’re back, _di’kut_ , now get up or I’ll carry you,” Boil whisper-screamed as he bounced in excitement.

“Mh,” Cody held his arms out, silently asking to be carried. Boil shrugged and scooped him up with an ease Cody envied. 

Nau’ur had told him to prepare, and he had. There were beds and basic supplies for everyone. Still, he was utterly unprepared for when the ghosts from his past walked off the ship. 99 - but it couldn’t be. Cody had been there when he died. Clones from the same batch, then. Dressed in their Kamino-issued fatigues, the group could have been cadets marching in single file down the ramp. Some of them certainly looked young enough. Some had tattoos he thought he recognized. One in particular seemed to be attempting to murder him with his eyes.

Slick. 

He wanted to vomit, or maybe curl up and sink into the planet core, but Boil was at his side and wouldn’t let him. Slick was also backed up by a friend, his thicker than average build suggesting he was once a heavy gunner or perhaps a commando. 

“Commander Cody, is it?” the unidentified clone spoke casually. With the way he was standing, Slick would have to climb over him to get at Cody. 

“I’m retired.”

“Just Cody, then? I’m Scorch. My buddy here has some strong opinions about you, but I wanna see for myself. You’re a legend.”

Slick was about to spit some choice words at Cody when Ukid jumped from the ship’s hull and landed squarely between them. 

“Uh-uh, had a feeling this might happen, you two can settle your differences once everyone’s accounted for, ok?” 

“You were right, Slick.”

“What?” three identical voices spoke in unison. 

“We were slaves fighting a pointless war. While I can’t approve of what you did, I can understand why you did it. But, that’s all over now, and we have to stick together, so. I forgive you.” Cody gulped, his body trying to swallow his words too late, though he knew it was true. 

Slick’s face was twisted in confusion, anger, desperation, anguish. Perhaps Cody had spoken too soon. 

“Y-you’re safe now. Settle in, use whatever resources you need. We’re here to help.”

Scorch’s hand on his shoulder had Slick turning away. 

“Give him time,” Scorch said to Cody, “he’s been fighting for so long it’s all he remembers.”

—-

Cody was the first to volunteer for the surgery, one he hadn’t expected to take mere minutes. The droids were so familiar with clone anatomy and so precise that the brain surgery was little more hassle than removing a splinter, nothing like the experience he'd been warned of. Cody rang in the new year with a freshly shaved head, surrounded by family. Zo’dira claimed Cody for the entire holiday, citing the indisputable facts that “we’re both hairless mammalian humanoids,” and “besides, Cody rhymes with Zodi so there.” Hard to argue with that. 

The new year marked many new beginnings. Within a month, every clone in the Baobab Merchant Archives was chip-free. Even Slick had to admire the efficiency and solidarity fostered by the 212th. Still, Slick’s calling was elsewhere, and he left as soon as he could to make good on his promise of freeing the clones still on Kamino. Scorch wasn’t about to let him go alone, and his fellow commandos had begrudgingly followed him back to their old prison. Slick was in good hands. 

Dogma, Cody realized, was one of Rex’s men. He was delirious most of the time but had started asking about Tup, and Fives, and finally Rex, after a night spent devouring the information in the archives. Once again, Cody'd had to tell a trooper that all his friends and brothers were dead. Dogma wasn’t the same after that. He still said things that didn’t make sense, but his eyes held determination. One day, he just disappeared, apparently to join the crew of Hondo Kriffing Ohnaka of all people. 

As the liberated clones went their separate ways, Cody’s focus turned back to their original destination for the first time in months. They had found a home here, but their mission was far from complete. Besides, they could come back. At one of Ebenn’s famous banquets, he drunkenly announced to the entire facility that anyone who still wanted in on “operation: get super lit” should make travel preparations. Freedom meant they were finally ready to unleash their chaos on the galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dogma joining the Ohnaka crew is a reference to [**Dogma Finds Love in a Hopeless Place**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16545392) (8426 words), which I love.


	17. Kashyyyk, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blood, battlefield injuries

The _Jate’kara_ reverted above Kashyyyk in the middle of a space battle. Fortunately, they were trained for unexpected situations like these, and managed to make it to the surface without too much damage to the ship. Sen was still furious. How dare anyone shoot at his ship. What was supposed to be a fuel stop would now require repairs, and was apparently also an active war zone that nobody had thought to mention. Still, it was either here or Umbara. 

Sen griped over the comm as he went out alone to assess the damage and start repairs, complaining both that he was the only one doing any work and that no one knew how to help him, save Nau’ur, who was busy running diagnostics inside. It was when he went uncharacteristically quiet that Cody knew to investigate. 

He didn’t even have time to scream as something soft and impossibly strong hauled him off his feet and crushed the air from his lungs. Pain flared like a red-hot halo and his vision blurred. “Wookiees are hostile now,” was his last coherent thought before he blacked out.

The soil on Kashyyyk tasted pretty good, at least compared to the soil of other planets he’d found in his mouth. He was woozy, but he still had both his arms, which he used to successfully push himself off the spongy ground. He was in a cell, built from sturdy wroshyr branches, though haphazardly. Several sets of eyes followed his movements as he assessed the construction, mostly human, some identical to his own. The only one he recognized was Sen.

“Nice of you to join us, Commander,” he whined from his own cell. 

“Don’t call me that,” Cody said, without breaking his concentration. 

The branches themselves were impenetrable, but the construction was clearly rushed. Furthermore, there were no guards currently present. The wookiees had imprisoned them for some reason but apparently didn’t intend to, or couldn’t, ensure that they stayed put. 

“Anyone wanna tell me what’s going on?” he addressed everyone within earshot as he took the knife in his boot to the vines holding the branches together.

“We’ve tried that,” a human man said. 

“Answer my question.”

“I don’t take orders from you, _Commander_ ,” someone mocked.

Cody frowned at the familiar way the stranger addressed him. 

“I really hope Nau’ur locked down the ship,” Sen mumbled as he rocked back and forth, hugging his knees.

“You have a ship?” suddenly everyone’s attention was on Sen. 

“My pride and joy,” Sen croaked, until Cody gave him the secret signal to shut up. 

Apparently the signal was not so secret, or else everyone here was just in on it. The other prisoners began speculating as to why the fresh blood wouldn’t tell them why they were here, why they had a ship, why they kept playing stupid. Cody wondered why the non-clones understood clone sign.

Except it wasn’t clone sign anymore, it was Imperial sign. Cody dragged his hands down his face. Of course the Empire would take the sign language he, Rex, and some of the other commanders had standardized and not even credit him. The other prisoners were Imperial stormtroopers, and the wookiees had probably assumed the same of Cody and Sen. This was one of those times when having the face of Jango Fett was less than helpful.

Cody had recognized trandoshan craft among the ships forming what he now realized was a planetary blockade. He knew the slavers had a long history as the enemies of the wookiees, and if they were in league with the Empire, he had only one guess as to what stormtroopers were doing here. 

“Trooper’s right,” Cody finally acknowledged the non-clone human who hadn’t stopped with the theories. “We were sent for recovery.” 

“Is that why the guards are gone?”

“Yes,” Cody rolled with the new information. 

Perhaps the space battle was a new development. While he hadn’t seen much surface action in the region they’d landed in, the cover the trees provided was also the reason he was here. If this area was wookiee controlled and was possibly being threatened for the first time, the wookiees would be unlikely to give up but also wouldn’t expect a revolt from the prisoners. Maybe he could convince them he was on their side, even though his shyriiwook was utterly _shab'la_.

“Anyone here speak shyriiwook?” Cody was throwing ideas around at this point.

“Yeah, they keep saying we should be thankful that they freed us, that we owe them.” The trooper’s choice of words indicated he disagreed with the statements, but his voice just sounded tired. 

Interesting. The knife in Cody’s hands shattered under the full force of his body slam, but it was enough. The vine frayed, and he wrangled it with his bloodied hands until he could squeeze his way through the gap. He immediately freed Sen and the trooper who spoke shyriiwook.

“Come with me,” he ordered as the others stared at him, aghast, or perhaps impressed.

“Who put you in charge?”

“You can’t talk to the Commander like that!” Sen interjected.

“Commander who? What’s your identification?”

“IC-1262, Squad 40,” Cody didn’t hesitate to recite Scorch’s number, and hoped nobody here knew he’d been decommissioned. 

“Commandos,” went the whisper around the prison. 

“You’re a lot smaller than I expected,” a clone spoke up, to the amusement of his cellmates.

“Most of the bulk is the armor,” Cody lied, “now let’s get out of here. Trooper?”

The three of them cautiously left the makeshift prison in defensive formation, searching for the absent guards.

“ _Me’bana_?” Sen hissed, hoping that the nat-born trooper in their midst didn’t understand mando’a.

“ _Ni nu’kotir anade. Meh val mar’eyir mhi aru’ela, mhi osik’la._” 

Cody observed the trooper’s reaction as he spoke, prepared to silence him if he attempted to raise alarm. Intrigue and annoyance, but apparently not understanding. Sen’s face looked much the same. 

“ _Rangir_,” Sen muttered. His mando’a was too rusty to be useful.

Cody shut him up with a bloody hand to his mouth, which he reeled back from. He’d spotted a wookiee, and the three approached with their hands raised.

“Tell them we wish to negotiate. You said we owe them, right?”

The trooper who spoke shyriiwook was admittedly not bad at it, for a human. His strained grunts and growls actually got a response from the wookiee, which he translated into basic.

“She says we will defend the base if we wish to honor the life debt and be freed from prison.”

A life debt. 

“They believe they’ve saved you from slavery,” Cody realized out loud. “Tell her we accept the debt, and will defend the base.”

“But sir, that’s treason.”

“Trust me, trooper.”

He frowned, but did as he was ordered.

“You got a name, trooper?” Cody asked as they made their way back to the prison.

“FT-6774, sir.”

“I said name.”

“We don’t… we’re not supposed to use our names.”

“Well, we commandos do things differently, but I’ll call you by whatever makes you comfortable. Right, Fixer?” Cody elbowed Sen, who had been growing progressively more nervous at his side. 

“Alright, listen up. The wookiees believe they’ve saved us from Imperial slavery and that our hostility is unwarranted, and that we in fact owe them life debts. This one has agreed to release us on the condition that we defend the base. If you want out, now’s your chance. If you choose to follow me, you'll be risking friendly fire, but I can get you off-world. I’m out of here.”

Cody marched off, followed by declarations of “he’s crazy.” Sen could agree with that.

“How dare you,” Sen gasped as Cody ducked out of the way of blaster fire, taking Sen down with him. “You can’t just invite Imperials onto my ship.”

“You’d rather I leave them to die? That could have been us. I’m giving them a choice.”

“You are endangering the entire crew.”

“Do you know how poorly trained these new recruits are? Besides, we far outnumber them.”

“Are you forgetting about the other clones?”

“If they’re following me, they know what they’re getting into.” Cody had given intentionally vague orders. No clone was stupid enough to follow through without questioning the CO unless they were prepared to take matters into their own hands.

Sen groaned, broke free of Cody’s grasp and crawled the rest of the way to the ship on his own. Pounding on the hatch, he demanded Nau’ur let him back on board, where he outranked Cody and could relieve him of command. 

Cody surveyed the perimeter, then the ship itself. He was no mechanic but he was fairly certain this section was supposed to be silver, not black. Sen had disappeared onboard, no doubt to rip into Cody’s actions over the past few hours, as well as his competence as a commander and his personality in general. As he rounded the ship pretending to know what he was looking at, four soldiers came crashing through the trees, wide-eyed and pale-faced.

“Any of you have experience on starships?” Cody addressed the unarmored shinies.

“W-h- th-they got NU-259,” one of them managed through his shaking.

Cody groaned. They’d left a man behind. He marched back into the forest, followed by the most competent of the stormtroopers, who led him to where the wounded clone lay.

The clone was conscious, swearing every other word at his comrades for leaving him behind, at the troopers who’d shot him, at the planet for being too warm and buggy. He was in no condition to walk.

“Elevate his leg,” Cody ordered, motioning to the slowly bleeding appendage. He’d been burned, but it certainly wasn’t a direct hit or the wound would have cauterized. It looked more like the bolt had hit something in the vicinity, probably a tree, and the man had been riddled with vaporized particulate shrapnel. At least it hadn’t hit anything vital. These stormtroopers really couldn’t aim for kriff.

The trooper on the ground was groaning loudly, threatening to give away their position. Cody considered gagging him with the organic matter scattered over the forest floor. 

“Do you want to live, trooper?” Cody felt the need to ask. 

He nodded desperately, tears in his eyes.

“I’m going to get the medic, and someone else to help me transport you. Stay here and keep quiet. You were trained for this.”

Cody returned to find the three other troopers picking at the dirt. They all jumped when he barked at them to answer his earlier question, and to make themselves useful if they wanted to survive. He then banged on the hatch exactly the way Sen had. 

“I need a medic,” he demanded when the door didn’t immediately open. 

Sarad pulled him inside and immediately began fussing over his hands.

“No, not for me, there’s a wounded trooper in the forest who can’t walk,” he swatted Sarad away.

Everyone present glared at him.

“Cody, you’re relieved of command,” Sen stated. The others nodded in agreement.

“What?”

“Sit the kark down.”

He did as he was told, even let Sarad clean and bandage his hands, but did not relent.

“Sarad, there’s a wounded man out there who will die in the forest of a 100% preventable infection if you don’t help. He’s been in prison for who knows how long, he’s unarmed, and he was willing to desert the Empire.”

“How do you know that?”

“He’s one of us.”

“And what of the others?” Cas pushed to the front of the group.

“Four so far, human, utterly incompetent. Might be able to help with repairs.”

“Absolutely not,” Sen declared.

“I meant more in the sense that they could hold your toolkit,” Cody clarified. He then returned to guilting Sarad. 

“ _Vod_ ’s bleeding out. Hurry up and make your choice. If you’re gonna let him die at least make it painless.”

“ _Ne’johaa_,” Sarad snapped at Cody, snatching up his medkit and heading for the door.

“Wait, you’ll need my help to find them,” Cody leapt up, only for Idi’jil and Ukid to shove him back down by his shoulders.

“I can scan for life forms, _di’kut_ ,” Sarad brandished his bio-scanner like it was a weapon.

“Cas, will you go with him?”

Cas obliged, glaring at the troopers congregated outside the ship. 

“You said three,” he commed back to Sen.

“How many?”

“Seven, four nat-borns and three clones. They’re touching your ship, Sen, might wanna get out here and order them around.” 

Sen huffed at that, then strapped on his safety goggles and stormed out, leaving Cody to the mercy of his rather disgruntled _vode_.


	18. Aboard the Jate’kara, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of past murder of Jedi and enslavement/torture/murder of wookiees, implied drug and alcohol use, sexually suggestive situations

“Cody.” Lark leveled him with a terrifyingly calm stare, leaning down to hold his head by his ears. “What the kriff were you thinking?”

He hadn’t been thinking. 

“I couldn’t… I was making the best of a bad situation.”

All eyes were on him, demanding explanation.

“I couldn’t leave them. What if- what if that had been us?”

“ _Haar’chak_ , Cody,” Lark sighed and squeezed her eyes shut so he wouldn’t see her resolve melting. “You’re too good.”

“Thanks?” he mumbled into her shoulder as she embraced him.

Satisfied that he wasn’t about to get up and run, his brothers released him, but Cody remained pinned to the ground by their accusing stares.

“You’re supposed to protect us, Cody,” Verd stabbed him in the heart with the uncertainty and betrayal in his eyes. “What are we going to do now?”

“Ask them how long they’ve been here,” Cody picked his words carefully.

“One to three years,” Cas replied over the comm. 

“The Empire doesn’t come back for prisoners.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t run it by the rest of you. It wasn’t fair of me to endanger you, but we did land in a war zone. What we do next is up to you, but hear me out: these nine troopers aren’t a threat. If they start anything, we can take them. I don’t think the Empire will come looking for them, especially not on Zeltros, we can get them off world and go our separate ways.”

“Let us in,” a voice demanded from outside. 

Sarad marched in, followed by two nat-born troopers carrying the injured clone. NU-259 looked livid, but his eyes softened when surrounded by familiar faces. 

“Is this ok?” Sarad flashed him a sedative stim, and he nodded. He was out cold in seconds, and the four of them disappeared to the medbay. 

“D’you think… is he ok?” Nerra motioned after the medic.

“See if he needs help if it makes you feel better, but don’t get in his way,” Cody reminded him that Sarad was the most deadly of them all, especially if he was interrupted while working.

“I trust you, Cody,” Lark finally broke the silence. 

It wasn’t much of a debate anymore, not since they’d all seen 259. Rule number 1: never leave a man behind. Inconvenient as it was, they couldn’t just dump the nat-borns without causing more trouble. 

“Alright, let’s get this ship flying, who’s with me?” Nau’ur stood with renewed determination. 

“If the nat-borns ask, we’re all commandos,” Cody offered.

“…Right.” Nau’ur certainly had the build for it, but most of the others did not.

“Relax, they don’t know _osik_ ,” one of the clones from the prison was leaning on the doorway, grimy and sweaty and regarding Cody with a lopsided grin. “You got any water?”

“Of course we have water, what kind of ship do you think I’m running?” Sen pushed past him, tossing him filled canteens to distribute.

\---

Despite everything, Sen had taken to this assignment rather well. He was in his zone, and Cody suspected they’d be underway before the moons rose. He wasn’t far off. As they prepared to run the blockade, the four nat-born troopers witnessed for the first time how terrifyingly competent clones were when they worked together in numbers. 

FT-6774 watched, mesmerized, at the seamless way they passed tasks back and forth. He considered himself something of a linguistics expert, but this was like nothing he’d ever seen. They were speaking mostly basic, though interspersed with ryl, huttese, what he assumed was mando’a, and something he didn’t recognize. From how lost he was, he suspected a great deal of communication was non-verbal. 

“Nerd,” NK-4486 said from the seat beside him. 

“I didn’t know they had names,” 5389 remarked.

ST-3327, the one who’d brought them water, was Keys. NK-521 and YT-6529 were Naak and Taylir, and NU-259 and GT-856 probably had names too.

“Wanna know my name?” 86 nudged 5389.

“No.”

“Where do you think we’re going?” 

“Wherever commandos live?”

“I don’t think they’re commandos,” DL-5094 stated grimly as he joined the others. 

“Why not?”

“Commandos hunt Jedi, they don’t rescue regular troopers who’ve been in prison for months.”

“You’re right,” Mey shocked them with her presence, having inserted herself into their space in her eery silent way. “You’re lucky we happened to be down there, and 62 went and got himself captured. Otherwise, you would have died down there.”

“So, were you hunting Jedi?” 6774 asked excitedly, unperturbed by Mey's grim nonchalance.

“Classified.”

“Where are we going?” 

“We’ll drop you off on Zeltros. You can find your way from there, right?”

“Do commandos live on Zeltros?”

“Some of us. Sometimes. Me, I live in the moment,” Mey echoed Extra’s favorite saying, staring wistfully into the distance. 

“Hah! Good one,” 86 was the only one laughing.

“You’re a woman, aren’t you?” 5389 blundered.

“Brilliant observation, trooper,” Mey was unimpressed. “And here I though your heads were all empty like your CO’s were saying.”

“Sir?” 6774 directed at NK-521. Naak, he corrected. 

“It’s a clone joke,” Naak explained, “that we’re better soldiers than nat-borns. Back during the clone wars we had some of the most utterly incompetent officers, like, they outranked us, but we were better than them in every way, and we were 10.”

86 laughed at that one too. 

“So, you guys are 16?” 5389 really didn’t know when to shut up. Mey growled at him.

“How old do you think we look?” Naak enabled them.

All four considered the question rather seriously, and came to the conclusion that they didn’t all look the same age. Lark, they declared, looked 25, while the one they knew as IC-1262 looked at least 50. Cody rolled his eyes. 

“Aww, they think you look old enough to be my dad,” Lark teased. 

“Can clones have kids?” 5389 was on a roll. 

“Yeah, but we reproduce asexually, so sometimes one of our clones will just start growing on a random part of our bodies and we don’t fit in armor. We’re making the new generation of clone troopers that way, they’ll have all our genetic modifications and memories so they don’t even need training,” Mey said with her perfect sabacc face. The others were having trouble breathing. 

It was almost hard to believe that these kids were deadly soldiers, fanatically loyal to the Empire. Bright eyed and curious, about the same age as Padawan Tano, and so shiny that they couldn’t see the truth through their hero worship of the clones. Apparently Keys, Naak and Taylir had all been rather tight-lipped about their war experiences, but Cody's _vode_ had no such restrictions. They regaled the four of them with stories of battles, worlds, cultures, and an order that had all but faded into legend, and Cody could see how they’d been so inspired by the GAR that they’d enlisted themselves. Now, millions like them were sweeping the galaxy committing atrocities, the proud legacy of the boys in white. Did they even know what the Empire was doing to the wookiees? 

“What were the Jedi like?” NK-4486 asked quietly, like he was afraid of getting caught. 

“Terrifying.”

“ _Jare’la_.” 

“The only nat-borns I’ve ever respected.”

“Are they as hard to kill as they say?”

Cody had to excuse himself to go lie down. 

He stopped by the medbay to fetch himself some painkillers, where he found Sarad and his patient holding each other and crying.

“Am I intruding?” 

“Yes,” they both said in unison.

“Are you physically ok?”

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna be in my bunk, hopefully these painkillers will knock me out and I can forget I saw anything,” Cody sighed, resigning himself to whatever the hell was going on here on this day. 

“Don’t you dare,” Sarad shocked Cody with his speed, grabbing the medication and swiftly measuring out the proper dosage. They did not need a repeat of what had happened on Manda. “Oh, I am not looking forward to dealing with everyone’s poor decisions once we get to Zeltros,” he moaned. 

“We’re going to Zeltros?” the other clone asked.

“Been trying to get there for what…six months now? By the way, Cody, this is Hoday.”

“Knew you weren’t Scorch.”

“You've met?”

“Once. Worked together briefly on Kashyyyk, just before the war ended.”

“And you two?” Cody motioned between them.

“We had a close mutual friend, back on Kamino,” Sarad explained.

“He died. Last month, trying to do what you did.”

Cody lowered his head solemnly. “I should go.”

“Get some rest, _vod_ ,” Sarad waved him out. 

“So. Zeltros,” Hoday raised his eyebrows at Sarad. “I have some ideas on how to deal with our nat-born deserters.”

Officially, stormtroopers didn’t have deserters. Some were just never recovered, replaced as easily as any clone. Much like the clones, their conditioning was designed to make them unquestioningly loyal to the government they served, the only difference was that their conviction that the Empire was the right side to choose was just that: a choice. They couldn’t be bribed, couldn’t be reasoned with, couldn’t be convinced to leave the Empire. They were, however, fallible human beings, rather stupid in Hoday’s opinion, who could be given false information, who could get lost, who could be overwhelmed by the potent pheromones naturally exuded by the entire zeltron species. Naak and Taylir probably wouldn’t like it, but this way Hoday could leave unnoticed and finally be rid of them. What the others did was up to them. 

“Cody was right about you, huh. You actually want to desert.”

“What would you have done? One day we were reenforcing the wookiees, the next we’re ordered to capture, enslave, murder and dissect them,” Hoday’s anger was old, sharpened to a fine point over the years he’d carried it with him. 

“I can’t stand these new recruits, acting like we’re all subhuman geriatric fools when we defended them before they could fight. They actually think the Jedi are traitors." He paused, and took a deep, shuddering breath. 

"They think I should be proud that I killed my commander so easily. She was kriffing sixteen,” Hoday sobbed.

“I will help you. We will all help you,” Sarad murmured as he let the other cry into his chest. 

“What of the others? If they do not follow you, will you be safe?”

“They won’t turn me in. _Vode ijaat_. Even if they did it’s not like anyone would come looking for me, I’m not important enough.”

“Alright. I’ve got your back. What’s your plan?”

“Same as yours. Get kriffing wasted.”

—-

Get kriffing wasted, they did. One whiff of the pheromone-laden atmosphere and suddenly all thoughts of antagonizing others over anything evaporated like water on the surface of Tatooine. Everything was great. Sarad wasn’t even thinking about the horrors on his horizon. If, come the morning, every single one of them had a hangover and blamed him, well he’d just have to deal with that. 86 was laughing at absolutely everything. Even GT-856, who revealed his name as Tara, cracked a smile as he ordered 86 and his squad to take the night off. 

“This is so weird,” Nau’ur gazed at the pink sky, feeling like she was floating.

Hoday stuck close to Sarad, head bandaged despite his mostly healed burns. Nobody noticed or cared, and they let their guard down a bit as they shared memories over a few drinks. Lark’s melodious laughter was accompanied by actual tears in her eyes. Idi’jil and Nerra were having some kind of eating contest, and Magic, Paak and Mey were taking bets. Turbo was last seen shoving his tongue down a zeltron man’s throat, and Cody could only hope he was having a good time. 

Cody could swear he’d never felt this calm in his life. He was warm, surrounded closely by Cas, Verd, Starburst, Sen, and Puzzle, Verd all but falling asleep on his shoulder. Usually, watching Turbo make questionable life decisions left him wound up for hours, but now he only felt love for his brother. Where normal Cody might have punched anyone who propositioned him before he could think, he’d politely declined the numerous sexual advances strangers had made over the evening. He just wasn’t interested in people that way, but he loved them. He loved them so much, especially his _vode_ , and his little family back on Manda. He was crying, and he didn’t care. 

“Love you too, Cody,” Sen teased, “now get us another round.”

Cody was more than happy to oblige. He approached the bar giddily, noticing something rather curious. Someone was sitting there alone, while everyone else had company. The space around the person felt cold and empty, and Cody’s mood mellowed in sympathy. He caught the man’s gaze as he waited for his drinks, and what he saw made his blood run cold. 

There at the bar, _haryc b’aalyc_, sat Obi-Wan Kenobi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on Names:
> 
> Keys: always eager to figure things out and get things done, if you need help he's the key. Secretly ashamed that he couldn't break himself out of prison.
> 
> Naak: Mando'a for 'peace'
> 
> Taylir: Mando'a, 'to preserve/to know'
> 
> Hoday: shortened form of hodayc, Mando'a for 'cunning'
> 
> Tara: in the tradition of the 41st elite corps, Tara took his name from Tarasin: a native species in the Thaere sector, where he participated in several campaigns


	19. Zeltros, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alcohol use, mentions of past coercive sex, child neglect, sibling separation

“ _Su’cuy gar_,” Cody meant it in the most literal sense. 

“Cody,” Obi-Wan recognized him instantly.

“ _Ni…ni yaimpar ven'gebi. Pare sol._” 

Cody brought the drinks to his waiting _vode_ , visibly shaken. Verd was sleeping like an angel, leaning into Cas. Adorable. Cody motioned for Cas to stay where he was. 

“I um… I met someone. I’m gonna be over there.”

“Go Cody!” Puzzle whooped. 

Cas passed their sleeping brother to Puzzle, suddenly looking very serious. He took Cody a little ways away from the rest of the group.

“Don’t…don’t do anything you’re not sure you’re comfortable with, ok?”

“You know me, Cas. _Ret’lini_.”

“You’re sure you want this?”

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t.” Cas was suddenly frantic. “I’m just trying to look out for you, _vod_. From what I’ve seen, you’re like me, and-" Cas steeled himself. "I had sex once because I thought I was supposed to, that it was the thing people do, and I really wish I hadn’t.”

Cody blinked. “Oh gods.” He took Cas’ big hands from his upper arms, simultaneously amused and horrified. “Cas, it’s nothing like that. I’ll explain later, I just…I need to do some recon.”

Satisfied, Cas let him go. Cody shook off the discomfort and sat himself beside the lonely former Jedi. 

“ _Me’vaar ti gar_, Obi-Wan?” Cody had never addressed him this casually before, but he wasn’t about to call him Kenobi with stormtroopers nearby.

“ _Ner gai_ Ben,” he said, finally making eye contact. 

Cody almost fell into the depths of the sadness reflected on his face, but pulled himself together and waited for him to continue. Ben leaned forward slowly with a keening whine, planting his wet face in Cody’s tunic and sobbing. He really was drunk.

“ _Meg dush banar, burc’ya_?” Cody was really feeling the love today. This might as well happen at this point. 

"Padmé _kyr’adyc_,” he groaned into Cody’s chest. 

Cody knew that. Senator Amidala had been declared dead shortly after the end of the war. Jedi treason, not that he believed that for a second.

“ _Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la_ ,” Cody recited his condolences. Both of them had heard it so many times during the war that it now brought a sense of morbid nostalgia. It also brought a hiccup that wracked the prone form of Cody's esteemed former general. 

Physically holding him up while perched on a stool was getting awkward, so Cody shoved Ben off of him and onto the counter, where his head sunk into his folded arms. He’d clearly had enough to drink. Cody ordered two cups of tea, to the amusement of the bartender, and explicitly requested no stimulants be added. 

“ _Pirur_.” 

Cody’s kind gesture had Ben’s tears falling anew. He took the tea, served in the same fancy glasses as the hot intoxicant beverages, and raised it to his companion.

“ _Par_ Padmé,” Cody toasted. It felt strange to use her first name, but she and Obi-Wan — Ben — had been close. They shared their tea in silence.

“ _Vaii dab’ika_?” Cody got the sense that there was much more Ben wanted to say. Perhaps he would open up in private.

Ben got up and started walking, stumbling every few steps. Cody rushed to support him, bracing his form like they used to after a tough battle. He wished Ben would keep his hands to himself, but they wandered, to his waist…straight for the lightsaber.

“Ah.” Cody should have known.

“That’s where that went,” Ben was staring, befuddled, at the gleaming weapon he now held in the open for all to see. He could make a great pickpocket, if he didn’t immediately reveal what he had taken. Cody snatched it back and tucked it out of sight.

“Cody, you even have the reflexes of a Jedi,” Ben laughed too loudly. 

“No, you’re just drunk.”

Ben stopped outside a small motel unit to fumble with his keys, and Cody could swear he heard someone crying nearby. On the other side of the door was a child.

Suddenly, Cody was all lightning and fury, and Ben might not have seen the takedown coming even if his senses hadn’t been dulled. Cody forced Ben down, hard, slapping his cheeks to make sure he was listening.

“You left a kriffing child alone in your motel so you could go get drunk?” Unbelievable.

Now both were crying. Ben was a grown-ass adult, he could handle this himself. Cody left him to his shame and knelt to address the child. He was young, probably three or four standard, human, apparently uninjured. 

“My name is Cody. Ben and I were…friends. I’m not going to let him leave you alone like that again. You’re safe, understand?”

The understanding in the child’s blue eyes was so profound, it was like he was pressing it into Cody’s mind without saying a word. Cody wondered if he could speak. 

“Can you tell me why you were crying? Is something wrong?”

He wasn’t crying anymore. He was looking at Cody like he knew him, with an expression of powerful calm drowning the kind of grief a child should never have to endure.

“You look like uncle Rex,” he said at last. 

Cody’s eyes widened in disbelief. Rex had died on Mandalore, this boy wasn’t old enough to know him. But, what other clone named Rex would Kenobi know? 

“He’s not dead,” the boy said, easily reading Cody’s thoughts. Probably Force-sensitive.

“Where is he?”

“It’s a secret, auntie ‘Soka says I can’t tell anyone.” 

It had to be Rex. Cody’s emotions swelled up and leaked from his eyes. 

“Rex is my brother. I guess that makes me your uncle, too. What’s your name, _ad’ika_?”

“Luke Skywalker.”

Skywalker. Of kriffing course. Cody smiled through his exasperation.

“It’s nice to meet you, Luke.”

Luke looked worriedly to Ben, passed out on the couch where Cody had left him. 

“Why is he doing that?”

“Sometimes, Luke, grownups are stupid. Have you ever had medicine that made you really sleepy? He had too much of a drink like that, on purpose, so he could lose control of his body and mind and forget his responsibilities. I think he’s hurting a lot right now, and felt like he couldn’t be here. That doesn’t mean it was ok that he left you. I’m sorry he did that. He’ll be ok in the morning, but he’ll probably have a bad headache.”

Luke listened to every word with rapt attention. Cody couldn’t help but smile dryly when he realized that he looked a bit like senator Amidala. 

“Why don’t we go to bed, Luke?” Luke nodded, and taught Cody his entire bedtime routine, which Cody followed to the letter.

—-

Cody stayed the night. He didn’t care what his siblings would say when they next saw him. He had Kenobi trapped and he was going to get answers. Some things, Luke had told him in confidence last night. That he had a sister, Leia, and he didn’t know where she was. That his mother, Padmé, was dead: killed not at the end of the war but just days prior in an attack on her starship. That he and Ben were on the run. 

Cody had told Luke secrets too: that he was a clone trooper like Rex, someone who knew how to fight and protect. That he had many more siblings besides Rex, and that he knew what it was like to not know where they were or if they were ok. That he was actually only sixteen years old, younger than Ahsoka but older than Rex. Luke had laughed at that, having always assumed Rex was 100 like Ben.

Cody left the boy in his room to play contentedly with model starships and went to check on Ben. Cody roused him, gave him water and the meds intended for his hungover _vode_ that he’d stashed in preparation, and propped him up comfortably on the couch. The whole time, the look of abject horror never left Ben’s face.

“Can you eat?” Cody asked with deadly calm. Ben suddenly wasn’t hungry.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” Ben squeaked out.

“Apologize to Luke, not me.”

Ben’s face lit up like the thought had never occurred to him before. He left Cody to do just that. 

“Tell me something, Ben.”

“Yes?”

“You spent a year on Mandalore, correct?”

“That’s correct.”

“In all that time, did you never pick up any knowledge on the proper way to care for children?”

“I- the Duchess wasn’t a child,” he scoffed.

“In the ten years that you practically raised Skywalker, did it never occur to you that a traumatized child should not be left alone?”

“I- but- You’re right, Cody. I have no idea what I’m doing. I thought he could handle it because he’s a Jedi, but I keep forgetting his age. He’s so much like Anakin.”

“Whatever happened to Skywalker?” Cody casually voiced his curiosity. He didn’t expect Ben to break down all over again.

As he held Kenobi, Luke crawled right in between them, sniffling. Cody ended up crying as well. He sort of wished he’d done this sooner. 

“Kenobi,” Cody kept him at a distance with his formality, yet there was fondness in his voice. “You will tell me everything once you’re ready. Jedi’s honor.”

“I’m not a Jedi anymore, Cody. Hells, if anyone sounds like a Jedi here it’s you.” He chuckled, patting Cody’s hip where the lightsaber rested.

“Are you going to be needing this back?”

“Keep it. I’ve already replaced it, and I can’t exactly dual wield while carrying a child.”

“Ah-ah. You’re not thinking like a Mandalorian,” Cody teased. “But, I’m honored.”

“Cody?”

“Yes, Ben?”

“I’m glad you’re still alive.”

—-

Cody hated to ruin their vacation, he really did, but the others had to know. He at least did them the courtesy of waiting until they had recovered from their first night out, emerging from his exile followed by another man and a child.

“Wow,” Boil remarked. 

“Damn, he didn’t just get lucky, he went and adopted a kid,” Idi’jil still had no trouble voicing his every thought.

Fortunately, Cody had avoided the worst of the teasing. He now approached the starship with a strange expression, stern but kind, as he chatted with the little kid and hoisted him up onto his shoulder with a smile. Boil made a high pitched squeal of delight.

Cody’s companion looked…tired. He carried himself with a familiar sort of grace, the kind practiced while one carried the weight of the galaxy on their shoulders, and kept his face hidden under a hood. Figures that Cody would go for someone like that. Sarad wasn’t judging, his brother looked truly happy. 

Sarad was then tasked with gathering any _vode_ coherent enough to listen to some sort of very important announcement. Of course Cody would come back with a very important announcement. Half the assembled _vode_ assumed he was going to marry his mysterious companion right then and there.

“Rex is alive,” Cody wasted no time. He then unceremoniously flipped the hood off of the other man’s head, revealing an even more familiar ghost. 

Cody let Ben bask in the emotionally charged silence. He didn’t have to be a Jedi to know what they were feeling: incredulity, betrayal, hope, anger, confusion, protectiveness. He knew for a fact that Ben could sense it all. 

Luke could sense it too, he realized, as the boy on his shoulder climbed down into his arms and regarded the others warily. 

“They don’t like Ben,” he whispered into Cody’s neck. 

“It’s a long story, kid,” Cody sighed, relieved that they all had their chips out. He wasn’t sure if he could take all 15 of them, uncoordinated but uninhibited, while also protecting Luke and Ben.

“Alright, that’s enough, you’re scaring the kid. This is Luke, we’re all his _ba’vodue_ now, so treat him right.”

The atmosphere changed instantly. Boil was the first to step forward, and Luke leapt from Cody’s arms to greet him. Were all Jedi like this? 

“Ben, if we’re gonna raise him right, I need to know about all his Force abilities, now,” Cody had crossed his arms, subconsciously mimicking Kenobi’s own stance, as he watched the others withdraw. They would face Kenobi when they were ready.

We. Ben could live with that. 

“Oi,” Cody snapped his fingers harshly. “I know how to care for kids but if he’s anything like Ahsoka I’ll have to make some adjustments. Tell me.”

Ben smiled. That was the fearless Cody he knew, ready to jump into anything.

“He likes to go fast,” Ben began.


	20. Zeltros, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of past character death, unhealthy coping, mentions of past canon-compliant child abuse

True to Ben’s word, Luke liked to go fast. He would hurl his little body at every available surface, run faster than his short legs should have allowed, and give _vode_ heart attacks by jumping from the highest bunks. Fortunately for everyone, his telekinetic abilities didn’t yet extend past his own body. Everyone intended to keep it that way, coming up with distractions as quickly as Luke found new outlets for his energy. _Vode_ were more than willing assist him when he couldn’t reach, for it was better than the imagined alternative. They taught him how to have fun without using his potentially destructive cosmic powers, for the clones didn’t need the Force to throw a kid around. Boil had started the game three days ago, tossing Luke into the air and catching him while he squealed in delight, and the boy hadn’t let them stop since. 

“We did this kind of thing all the time as cadets,” Ukid attempted to reassure Ben, “helps them develop balance and coordination.”

Luke already had plenty of coordination. _Vode_ had found him climbing to the top bunks, hiding in maintenance hatches, and tinkering with the ship’s communications, trying to contact his sister. The clones followed and quietly childproofed everything they had overlooked where a Force-sensitive child was concerned. Cody had no idea how Ben had managed alone for even a day.

“Cody. How are you so good at this?” an exhausted Ben demanded answers after an hour and a half spent trying to convince Luke to go to bed and stay there. 

“They don’t call me _ori’vod_ for nothing,” Cody answered nonchalantly, still absorbed in the article on his datapad.

“We had trainers, doctors, and overseers, not parents. Cody was among the first successful batch of standard clones, and they and the older ARCs practically raised the rest of us,” Boil explained. 

“I see,” Ben looked sad, “Thank you all for your help.”

\---

There were some who avoided Luke as much as humanly possible, among them Sarad and Hoday. Cody didn’t pry, but he made it clear that whatever they were doing in secret would not interfere with Luke’s safety or wellbeing in any way. Sarad didn’t bother to call him out on his hypocrisy. He had medical records to fabricate. 

Every day, Ben drilled Luke in meditation, to shield his powerful mind from those who would abuse it. Apparently, it was one of the first things Jedi younglings were ever taught, long before they ever held a lightsaber. Cody thought he understood the theory, still unsure as to why some of the other _vode_ were so angry with Ben for making Luke do this. Then, Ben told the grieving three-year-old to let go of his anger, lest the Empire use it against him and his friends. Cody recognized the look of frustration on his young face, the mirror of a clone cadet standing tall through a harsh berating for something that was never their fault. Luke was determined not to cry. 

Cody stepped in then, skin prickling at Ben’s long suffering sigh. Luke let his tears fall when Cody picked him up and brought him to Boil. 

“You’re a good kid, Luke. You haven’t done anything wrong,” Cody had a feeling he needed to know. 

Cody explained the situation to Boil, then returned to take Luke’s place across from Ben, mimicking his meditation stance.

“I failed Anakin, and now I’m failing Luke,” Ben told the floor.

“How can he let go of his anger if he isn’t allowed to understand it?” Cody cut right through Ben’s self-depreciation. 

Ben didn’t answer.

“Don’t ignore me. You still have a lot of explaining to do. Care to start with why you disappeared after killing Grievous?” Cody still wanted to hear that story, and would gladly listen if it got Ben to open up about more important things.

“I couldn’t contact any of you.”

“Yeah, that might have been my fault,” Cody admitted unapologetically.

Ben remained silent, familiar curiosity prodding Cody through the Force, urging him to continue.

“I may have been high as kark during the Battle of Utapau and misinterpreted order 66 as order 6, then relayed that to the entire Third Systems, who never got the message from the Chancellor because I got to them first and by then they’d all ditched their comms.”

Ben’s eyes lit up in bittersweet realization.

“Cody, you magnificent _di’kut_ ,” Ben finally managed with a rare, adoring smile.

“Wasn’t my proudest moment, but better than the alternative,” Cody shrunk away from the unearned praise.

Ben was back to business as soon as he sensed Cody’s discomfort.

“I couldn’t contact you, so I moved into orbit to see if I could pick up any other signals, in case the disruption was only planetary.”

“How?”

“I stole Grievous’ ship.”

Cody nodded solemnly in understanding, then both stifled a bit of laughter.

“I immediately received a distress call from Master Yoda on Kashyyyk, and a warning from Senator Organa’s private channel. I’m afraid your fortunate mishap only affected about 10% of the army, and the order went through in most systems. Yoda's troops had turned against him, and I assumed the worst, so I left. When I got to Coruscant, it was in chaos.”

“I heard about that part,” Cody picked up, “There was all that infighting with the GAR, and Palpatine was revealed as the mastermind behind both sides of the war, then that Sith lord came out of hiding. Was he the one the Jedi were looking for?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Ben averted his eyes as his sadness grew infinitely deeper. “Whoever the master is, we still haven’t found them, but they’re out there. They’ve been hunting Jedi and anyone who sympathizes with them, and the Republic is struggling to protect its citizens. They want Luke.”

Cody felt a chill as he remembered what the stormtrooper, NK-4486, had asked with the wrong kind of hesitation. If the Jedi were as hard to kill as they said. The Empire was hunting full-fledged Jedi, but Scorch hadn’t said anything about children. Still, the Separatists had tried something similar, intending to ensure that the Jedi could not replenish their ranks.

“Do they want him dead, or do they want to control him?” Cody asked cautiously.

“The latter, I think, but they won’t be above killing him if he resists.”

“Ben, we just came from Kashyyyk, which is under Imperial occupation, with nine Imperial defectors aboard. The clones don’t know who we are except one, and the nat-borns believe we’re Imperial Commandos. I broke them out of prison and brought them here, and we’ve more or less lost track of all but one, the one who knows my real name. I don’t know if he’s a danger.”

Ben took in the information as quickly as he ever had, the steely look in his eyes an indication that he was deep in thought. He then closed his eyes, concentrating, listening for any tells in the Force. He’d described it once as pulling on strings, testing their tension and feeling where energies tangled together or vacated entirely, but instead of physical locations these knots and voids usually represented living beings and their complex multitudes of emotions and intentions. Ben opened his eyes at last.

“Thank you for telling me, Cody.” There was no immediate danger, then.

“If they see us leaving with you, we could pass it off as a covert Commando mission, if it comes to that.”

“Thank you, Cody.”

Cody wasn’t done. 

“So, after Coruscant was stabilized, what happened to you? Where have you been all this time?”

“Alderaan, mostly.” 

Ben wasn’t eager to talk. Cody tried pushing his feelings of reassurance and a need for rationality through the Force, like Ben had been explaining to Luke, which initially took Ben by surprise. It worked.

“Senator Organa was with us in the aftermath of order 66. He and the others from the Delegation of 2000 were on Coruscant practically holding the Senate together, and managed to pass the Sentient Rights bill regarding the Clone Army before the Senate became hostile towards the Jedi and the GAR. He offered refuge to any displaced Jedi or clones on Alderaan. Senator Amidala was badly injured and had just given birth, and I initially stayed to help with the twins. When it became clear that the Empire was hunting Force-sensitives, Padmé faked her death, feeling that she could better protect her children if she was anonymous, and Ahsoka, Yoda, and I went our separate ways. 

“We’d been organizing an alliance to restore the Republic, but when the Empire openly assassinated Padmé for illegally contacting Republic supporters on Imperial-occupied planets, I realized I couldn’t keep fighting the Empire when someone needed to protect Luke. I need to find a safe place to train him, somewhere the Emperor won’t think to look.”

“How much of that does Luke know?”

“He knows that he’s the son of one of the most powerful Force-users ever inducted into the Jedi order, and that the Empire is hunting him for his potential. He knows his mother was just killed fighting to restore a galaxy where Jedi aren’t hunted.”

“Does he know what a Jedi is?” 

Ben sputtered at the obvious question.

“When I was his age, we were taught that the Jedi were the galaxy’s peacekeepers, beings who could wield the Force to heal, as a weapon, to see the future, to influence others, to turn the tide of battles. It was common knowledge for clones. We learned about the Jedi’s role in the Republic government, how best to assist them in various situations, why the Republic was worth fighting for. Now, none of that information exists on the public holonet. The clone wars archives don’t even mention Anakin Skywalker. Does Luke even know why the Jedi are being hunted?”

“I suppose not.”

“No wonder he’s so upset. His whole world has been ripped away from him, and you’re telling him that his natural reactions are putting him in danger of an invisible enemy.”

“I’ve done nothing but protect him-”

“Children don’t care about the logic behind our actions.”

“He must learn-”

“What danger is there?”

Ben didn’t answer, so Cody answered for him.

“There is no immediate danger, or you would have told me after you reached out to the Force. He’s safe for now. Give him time. I swear to you every one of us will protect him. He needs to know that his feelings are real and important, that he is protected, and then he can heal. He’s just lost his mother, for kriff’s sake. 

“If you keep this up, I can say with absolute certainty that you will end up with a Force user even more volatile than his father. These formative years are going to shape who he is for the rest of his life, and who he is now is terrified, angry, and hurt. I thought that’s what you Jedi wanted to avoid.”

“It is.”

“So why are you telling him that everything will be fine, when he has no way of even imagining that? Telling him his sister is safe but offering no proof or even an explanation as to why they had to be separated in the first place? Kids need stability before they can even begin to understand things they haven’t experienced. Do you have any idea what he’s going through right now? He probably feels like he’s been spaced, yet somehow managed to keep breathing. I’d think you of all people would be able to tell.”

“I can’t reach out to him, he just shuts down.”

“Then take my word for it. I was at his same stage of development only 15 years ago, and unlike most humans, I remember it. I saw what happened to _vode_ who were never allowed to heal from trauma at that age, over and over. Most of them never made it off Kamino.”

Ben’s mouth was open, horrified.

“I have so many examples of what not to do. Please, do this right.”

“I’ll accept any input you have, Cody.”

\---

Cody wrote an entire manual, with input from Ben on needs specific to Force users. Said manual was promptly distributed to the 212th and executed with peak efficiency. Once again it was Cody and Kenobi calling all the shots, relegating everyone to babysitting duty indefinitely, but it was working. Idi’jil thought it was even more fun than getting drunk. The storm inside Luke was finally allowed to pass, and he began practicing meditation without prompting.

“I can feel Leia,” he said, completely at peace as he connected to the Force.

“Tell her I said hi?” Idi’jil smiled from his post where he’d been watching Luke, in case he started accidentally levitating things. 

Luke giggled cutely, but Idi’jil was distracted by a priority message. 

“Luke, we’re gonna pretend we’re Mandalorians now. I’ll be your _buir_ , and you’re my _ad_ , Boba. Here’s your helmet.”

Luke understood immediately. Something had happened.

The stormtroopers had returned for Hoday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Untold Story of Grievous](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gcEvwCECYlk)


	21. Zeltros, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of fictional disease, surgery, slavery, reproductive disorders, and forced sterilization; discussions of order 66, the control chips, and sibling separation

“Stay here,” Sarad ordered Hoday, who began to panic.

“I’ve got this. Trust me.”

After securing Hoday in the medbay, Sarad marched down the corridors of the ship and ended up near the entrance, which was blocked by _vode_ all scrambling to stall Tara. 

“Move,” the medic cut his way through the crowd. “Spread out, this hatch is way past maximum occupancy, if there was a fire on the ship you wouldn’t be able to evacuate.” 

Most of the _vode_ groaned and dispersed, and Sarad situated himself at Cody’s side, holding his datapad such that Cody could read it. 

Tara looked to be growing more and more impatient, having apparently tracked down the four nat-borns and wrangled them back into the city.

“His burns are healed, but he’s not fit for space travel. I ran blood tests to check for infection, and he’s caught what the wookiees usually refer to as yellow blood malaise. It's not fatal since he's human, but if his immunity has worn off it’s likely yours has as well. I’d like to give you booster shots if you’re willing.”

Tara peered at the falsified records, apparently satisfied with the diagnosis.

“Why can’t he fly?”

“It’s not the flying so much as the G-forces during takeoff and landing. With how far it's progressed, it would put too much strain on his heart.”

“Very well. I’ll tell the others.”

In the privacy of his medbay, Sarad harmlessly injected the three clones with sterile water and used the opportunity to ask how much they knew about the chips.

“Yeah, they make us more obedient or whatever,” Naak grumbled as he rubbed his arm.

“So why aren’t they putting them in the nat-borns?” Sarad prodded.

Sharp eyes exchanged glances around the room, but no one came up with an answer.

“I heard from some guys on Kamino that the Empire is planning on phasing us out because we’re too susceptible to corruption. Did you know that order 66 is hardwired onto the bio chip?”

After some confused murmuring, Taylir was the first to speak up.

“Do you have proof?”

Of course Sarad had proof. He allowed all three to read the files, signed by none other than Chancellor Palpatine, that listed the authorization to implant the chips and all 150 strangely specific contingency orders that could override the clones’ brain functions and turn them into remote-controlled killers.

“This is why no one actually remembers order 66,” Naak seemed rather underwhelmed for all the implications of the data.

“I think they’re dangerous,” Sarad said, “These orders were presumably designed so only Palpatine could issue them, but look at this- it’s organic, but partially code, and code can be hacked. Every one of us could be susceptible. Who knows if we’ve gotten other orders and just have no memory of them?”

“Where did you get this?” Tara was intently poring over the analysis of an actual biochip.

Sarad pointed to his own head. 

“If you want them out, I can help you. It’s a very quick surgery with minimal recovery time.”

The other three regarded Sarad suspiciously. 

“I just- you’ll probably make it back to central command long before I do, and someone needs to know.”

“Cut the act. We know you’re not Imperial,” Taylir admitted, yet made no outward show of hostility.

“Fine. But we’re still brothers, and this is still a real threat. I wouldn’t lie to you about this.”

“Thank you for the warning, _vod_ , we’ll take it into consideration,” Tara graciously responded. “I take it Hoday won’t be returning?”

“No, he won’t.”

Naak and Taylir griped about him being a traitor who didn’t know how good he had it.

“I’m sorry, weren’t you all in prison for the past three years?” Sarad was confused.

“Seven months,” Naak corrected, “Hoday was in there longer.”

“Since the end of the war. Can you really blame him for seeing the Empire differently than you do?”

“Maybe not, but it’s still better than what we had.”

Sarad could not hide his look of curiosity.

“Back then, most of our enemies were droids, but it was just massacre after massacre, and for what? We served and died in a war Palpatine created, for, I don’t know, profit? At least now we bring actual peace. Our mere presence is often enough to quell uprisings, and we rarely see battle. We had 71 successful campaigns in former Separatist territory before we were captured on Kashyyyk.”

Sarad considered what to say next for a long, sad moment. He had no reason to disbelieve anything Naak said, and yet the fact remained that his own _vode_ were on Kashyyyk subjugating and enslaving wookiees. Then again, the Republic had condoned the same, only with different races and on different planets. Everyone present had been created by the Republic to serve in a slave army 6.5 million strong. Perhaps the Empire was just the Republic with a different face. 

“I’ll be sorry to see you go, but it’s your life. _K’oyacyi_.”

“We do need to go, though,” Taylir announced. “If we leave our squad alone much longer they’re bound to have a weapons malfunction, or get lost and join a circus, or something. As their sergeant it’s my duty to keep them alive too, you know.”

“Sounds like a handful.”

“They’re idiots, but they’re my idiots,” Taylir bravely marched out of the medbay to face his destiny herding said idiots.

“ _Vore, ner vod_,” Tara stayed behind and addressed Sarad like they’d known each other for years. “Take care of him.”

“You have my word.”

The others were impatiently waving him over.

“ _Ret’urcye mhi_,” Tara bid farewell with a cryptic smile.

Maybe they’d be able to make a difference.

—-

Tara had meant it literally, Sarad discovered, when he returned alone in the dark of night and asked to have his chip removed. 

“We couldn’t have done this earlier?” he complained as he snuck the other into the medbay. 

The surgery was over within minutes, and Tara sat attempting to read Sarad’s compiled data on the chips as his vision adjusted from the anesthesia. Sarad was mulling about and putting things away, clearly eager to go to bed, when something startled him and he dropped his tools. 

“Boba, you’re not supposed to be in here,” he growled in frustration at the kid hiding in the cabinet. He’d have to sanitize the whole thing now.

“Boba? Where?” Tara looked around blindly, apparently under the impression that the Terror of Tipoca City could be here of all places.

“Er, not that Boba, he’s my brother’s kid,” Sarad explained, picking him up gingerly and taking him to the other room.

Hoday had taken up sleeping in the medbay, and Sarad woke him and pleaded with him to please get Luke out of there. Hoday froze up when he saw Tara, drugged and half-delirious, but Tara just nodded at him like they shared a great secret as Sarad steered him towards the door. 

“I always wanted kids,” Tara mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t get a good look, does he look like us?”

That was a relief.

“Not really, Boba’s adopted. He’s got a similar nose to us when we were younger, though.”

“Shoulda figured, we can’t have kids after all.”

“That’s…not entirely true. We inherited Jango’s asthenozoospermia and were sterilized at birth, but vasectomies can be reversed and it’s nothing that can’t be overcome with intra-cytoplasmic sperm injection,” Sarad rambled on, throwing in every gratuitous medical term he could think of, anything to keep Tara from focusing on the fact that there was suddenly a kid onboard.

“I actually helped a brother conceive that way, his kid definitely looks like us,” Sarad was rather proud of that success.

“Neat,” Tara slurred, “Maybe one day I’ll retire and have a bunch of kids. I guess nat-borns can’t have a lot of kids, huh? Probably only like…fifty.”

“Good luck with that, _ner vod_ ,” Sarad couldn’t help but laugh. “How are your eyes?” 

“I can tell that you have eyebrows now.”

“That’s…good.” It was taking a bit longer than expected, but at least he could be fairly confident that Tara wouldn’t remember much of this. He continued compiling records on the surgery in silence, in case there were any complications.

“Hey,” Tara said too loudly for the current hour. Sarad jumped.

“Did your other brother’s kid inherit the accelerated growth?”

“No, he didn’t.” 

“That’s good. Can’t imagine what it would be like to have a human growing inside me at twice the normal rate.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good,” Tara repeated, “he’ll be able to be a kid for a long time.”

\---

Sarad never made it to bed that night. Tara kept him up with questions, and was finally discharged in the early hours of the morning when his vision returned to normal. By that point, Sarad was hungry. He groggily made his way to the communal kitchen to raid the pantry, where he found Ben awake and doing the same.

“I heard you brought one of the stormtroopers on board,” he said through a mouthful of medium-density food board that he hadn’t bothered to season or heat. 

“He wanted his chip out. He’s gone now, everything’s under control. I doubt he’ll remember any of it,” Sarad yawned.

“Still, we can’t stay here.”

“I know.”

“If you’re headed rimward, I’d like to join you,” Ben casually invited himself to stay indefinitely.

“I mean. We’ll probably go back to Manda eventually. Or Utapau. Do you have some place in mind?”

“Maybe Tatooine, I’m not sure yet. Do you have contacts on Manda?”

“We sort of live there. The clones who look different are all from there.” Experimentally, Sarad took a bite of medium-density food board prepared Ben-style, and had to repress the urge to gag. 

“Have you been on Utapau this whole time?”

“Yeah, we got tired of waiting for you to come back though,” Sarad spoke without inhibition as he heated the food board until it puffed, then smothered it with spice rub. 

Ben was rubbing his beard contemplatively, apparently expecting the conversation to continue, but Sarad was finished with his past-midnight snack and with being awake.

“Don’t anyone bother me unless they’re bleeding, vomiting or dead,” Sarad stalked off to his bunk just as the early-risers were getting up. He slept until sunset.

—-

“Why would you take a kid to Tatooine?” Cody demanded answers.

“It’s controlled by the hutts, the Empire will have trouble gaining a foothold there,” Ben repeated the logic of his late master from decades earlier. 

“That’s not a good thing, Ben,” Cody flicked Ben’s nose.

“Why not Naboo? Doesn’t he have family there?”

“Yes, but the Naberrie family is too high profile. Queen Apailana was assassinated on suspicions of harboring Jedi refugees, the Empire knows to look there.”

“Kriff.”

The yelling had woken Sarad at long last, and he wandered into the main cabin only to be met with teasing stares. 

“Hi, sleepyhead,” Luke raised his arms to be picked up, and started bouncing in that position when he immediately noticed Sarad’s hesitation.

“Hey, Bo-Luke,” Sarad scooped the kid up and flinched when he started poking the mandala tattoos on his neck.

“Ben said I have to give this back,” Luke produced a flashlight from his pockets, presumably stolen from the cabinet the night before. 

“Ah. Thanks.” Sarad handed the boy off to the nearest _vod_ and sat down.

“So what do you think about bringing him to Tatooine?”

The little thief would fit right in with the Jawas, Sarad thought.

“Uh. Why Tatooine specifically?” was his much more professional response.

“He has relatives there, who may be willing to take him in. It’s low profile but populated enough that he wouldn’t immediately stand out in the Force. I could watch over him and still retain my connections to the Alliance,” Ben explained.

“Sounds like you’ve thought it through. If he has the proper immunizations and his relatives are willing, I don’t see a problem with it.” Sarad chanced a glimpse at Luke, huddled up in Nerra’s lap and pouting with all his effort.

“Is he just being stubborn or is there a reason for that face?”

“I want Leia,” Luke puffed his chest out in defiance.

“His sister,” Cody offered, “They were separated when their mother was assassinated by the Empire, three weeks ago.”

This was news to many _vode_ , including Sarad. The realization brought back bitter memories of final partings between batchmates, when they were far too young to understand.

“We want your opinion, Sarad, you’re the medical expert here.”

“I’m not a pediatric psychologist,” he scoffed. “I- what’s the alternative?”

“Bail and Breha are doing everything to protect Leia, but all three of us agreed that it’s too much of a risk to keep them together. If the Empire were to strike Alderaan, we’d risk losing both of them.”

Luke’s eyes began to tear up, and Boil stepped in to bring him somewhere else.

“Why does the Empire want them?” Sarad huffed in exasperation. 

“They are two of the most powerful Force-sensitives ever born. The Empire is afraid of the threat they would pose should they be trained as Jedi, and seeks to use their potential for themselves.”

“I had no idea the Empire was that much of a threat,” Lark, Sarad and Ukid all voiced at the same time.

“Well, it is. I sense something’s changed.”

“Sounds like Jedi business to me. I don’t know if I can help you there.” _Shab'la_ Force, complicating everything. Sarad already needed a nap.

Cody quirked an eyebrow at Sarad in an expression telling him that he would not be getting out of this so easily. Sarad rolled his eyes.

“You’re kriffing lucky I’d do anything for you,” Sarad hissed at Cody. Even if it meant attempting to understand the whims of the Force.

Cody just smiled. He knew.


	22. Mid Rim, Aboard the Jate’kara, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Force-echo induced panic attack, Skeevy Sheevy is back, mention of drastic climate change due to planetary bombardment

There was no efficient way to avoid Kashyyyk on the way back to Manda, not with how fuel prices had skyrocketed since they’d left Zeltros. Still, no one was about to go planetside again, least of all Hoday, and so they would refuel elsewhere. They reverted far enough away from the planet itself that the Imperial blockade wouldn’t detect them, the system’s star a dim speck barely distinguishable from thousands of others. They were in and out as quickly as possible, relieved at apparently having avoided an incident.

Luke, however, was inconsolable. Ben had sensed it too: anguish, despair, fury, and malice echoing through the Force. The difference was that Ben had decades of training to help him function through such devastating shockwaves. Luke could only wail, eyes wide open like he could see all the horrors on the surface, and the air began vibrating dangerously. Ben rushed to the boy’s side and urged him to breathe, to reach out in the Force and find him, find the clones, to know that he was protected and safe. As he breathed, the rumbling that was not the ship’s hyperdrive quieted, and the air actually cooled down. This child held terrifying potential.

“I need the rest of you to help me by staying calm as well,” Ben addressed the clones. “He can sense your fear and right now he is especially impressionable.”

They all knew how to force down their fear. Besides, logic said they were safe, so long as the universe didn’t bend to reflect Luke’s emotional state.

“Is this normal?” Cody asked.

“No. He is far more connected to the Living Force than any youngling I have met before. That, and he lacks control. Before becoming a padawan, a youngling must master separating oneself from the chaos around them so that they are not influenced by the wills of others.”

“Is that why the Jedi couldn’t sense the Sith?”

“What?”

“The Sith behind the war. Maybe since the Jedi cut themselves off from sensing everything going on in order to focus on the war, the Sith just flew under the radar in all that chaos. Something about the Dark Side clouding everything.”

“I- yes, to a degree…”

“Ben, what if Palpatine wasn’t just allied with the Sith? What if he was the Sith?”

“What makes you say that?” Ben had to ask, and yet he felt a pull suggesting that Cody was steering him in the right direction.

“You said things have changed recently. The Empire is becoming bolder, fuel prices are higher than ever so something’s going on with the economy on Coruscant, and you said you sensed something. Well, look at this.” 

Cody passed Ben his datapad, which he’d modified to be able to connect to the Baobab Holonet. The article title had Ben swallowing his own fear.

Former Supreme Chancellor Palpatine’s Cell Found Empty.

“He escaped?”

“Or he had help. I’m not sure which is worse.” Cody’s no-nonsense analysis had Ben shuddering.

“If he was behind the war and order 66, he could be behind the Empire, too. I wasn’t sure what his intentions were before, but galactic dominance does seem to fit with the goals of the Sith from what I’ve heard.”

“Cody…” That was Ben’s ‘I don’t want to talk about this here or now’ voice.

“It’s fine. Go meditate or whatever it is you need to do. We’ll watch Luke and call you if anything else happens.”

Ben patted Cody’s shoulder as he stood, pinning him with a look of weary gratitude. Then, just like that, he was released, and Ben was gone. Cody recovered quickly from the way Ben captivated his attention, the gentle intrusion and the sense of acknowledgment far deeper than merely being seen. He hadn't missed it, but even after so long, he was used to it. He opened the door to the cabin and was hit with the very same sensation from Luke.

“Shoulda seen that coming,” he muttered to himself as he took the seat beside Sen.

Sen had Luke in his lap, and continued explaining the controls once Cody settled in. 

“I’m gonna be a pilot when I grow up,” Luke explained to Cody.

“If you’re anything like your dad, you’ll do great, kid.”

“Did you know my dad?”

“Ben and I worked with him a lot. Rex knew him better than I did, but I can still say with confidence that he was the best star pilot in the galaxy.”

Luke’s eyes lit up with wonder.

“Ben never talks about him, even though they were friends. Why?”

“He’s always been like that. When something upsets him, he doesn’t talk about it,” Cody remembered how he’d been after Duchess Satine was assassinated.

“Why?” 

“I think he believes that Jedi shouldn’t be controlled by those kinds of feelings, so if he doesn’t talk about it he doesn’t have to feel it.”

That only confused Luke, who stared into Cody’s soul with eyes as deep and blue as a hyperspace tunnel. 

“Here Luke, take the controls, let’s see what you’re made of,” Sen placed Luke’s hands on the sub-light steering.

They were still in hyperspace, so in truth it did nothing but make Luke grin as he and Sen made sounds like a space battle.

“How do you say starship in mando’a?” Luke piped up, apparently done piloting for now.

“ _Me’sen_. It’s how I got my name.”

“Why?”

“Because, when I was your age, I wanted to be a pilot, too.”

“When I was your age, I was 8,” Cody joked.

“Why?”

“We were engineered to grow fast, so that we were as grown-up as a 26-year old when we were 10,” Sen explained.

“Why?”

“The people who made us are used to kids being all grown up when they’re 11, they probably got impatient.”

“Oh.”

Luke was getting impatient, too, wiggling in his spot on Sen’s lap.

“Do you wanna play something else?”

“When do we get there?”

“Three standard hours until we revert at Daalang to refuel.”

Luke nodded in response to the earlier question, then dropped silently to the floor, only to be thwarted by the door controls out of his reach. 

Cody opened the door for him, and followed him to where Idi’jil was building something out of spare parts. He quickly hid whatever it was when he saw Luke.

“I wanna play Mandalorians.”

“Uh, ok,” Idi’jil said to Cody. Luke was already reaching for Idi’jil’s old phase-II helmet.

It was so big on him that he didn’t even need to release the seals to put it over his head. 

“I can’t see,” came his muffled voice.

“Here,” Cody switched on the HUD.

“Woooaahhh,” Luke gasped through the voice modulator. “I can see behind me!” He began spinning in circles. 

Cody remembered it had taken some getting used to, but by now it was as natural as his own eyes. Luke fell over from dizziness but otherwise seemed to adjust rather quickly,

“You know what else Mandalorians do? They have jetpacks, and they can fly!” Idi’jil hoisted Luke up over his head and flew him around the bunks. Cody wished he was still small enough to do that. He had his own jetpack now, but it wasn’t the same.

Luke eventually tired and went down for a nap, and Cody and Idi’jil joined him. When it came time to revert to realspace, Sen found them all fast asleep in a pile of blankets on the floor.

“Hey Luke,” he prodded the boy awake, “It’s time to land. Wanna help me?”

Luke was up in an instant, jumping into Sen’s arms.

“I sincerely doubt that kid has a pilot’s license,” Nau’ur called from another room.

“Shut up, you don’t have one either.”

The ship jolted with the exit from hyperspace, and they entered high orbit around the violet-blue orb that was Daalang.

“Pretty,” Luke gasped as he pulled himself up on the dashboard to get closer to the viewport.

It was pretty. A rare color for a planet with a Type I atmosphere, Daalang shone like a jewel suspended in inky blackness. Still, Sen knew for a fact that the color was the direct result of the massive amounts of dust launched high into the atmosphere when the Republic had orbitally bombarded the planet during the Clone Wars. The world was still habitable, but forever changed. 

They entered the atmosphere, and every metallic surface built up a static charge as they passed through the outermost layer of ionized dust. Luke saw his reflection in the viewport, his light hair standing on end, and laughed. The landing was otherwise incredibly smooth. The planet’s surface was cold, dim, and tranquil. 

Sen suited up in cold-weather garb and pulled his scarf tight over his nose and mouth to keep out the dust. Fully covered as he was, no one would recognize him as a clone. Ben decided at the last moment that he shouldn’t go alone, and moved to exit the ship, woefully underdressed as Jedi tended to be.

“You’re not going out in that, it’s too suspicious,” Cody unleashed his judgement first thing after waking up.

“What’s wrong with it?” 

Sen only opened the hatch slightly to expose Ben to the local climate. Frigid, metallic air and heavy clouds of dust that whirled about whenever a ship took off or landed.

“Honestly, with your beard a simple fabric covering isn’t going to cut it.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ben complained as Cody helped him out of his robe and into a vac-suit. He still insisted on wearing the robe over the vac-suit with the hood up, scarf tied around the lower half of his face. He looked ridiculous, like a proper spacer. 

“Alright, let’s get this over with.”

Sen made his routine inspection around the ship, dispersing the static charge with his de-ionizer. Meanwhile, Ben stood near the hatch, statuesque, with his arms folded. Why couldn’t he just act normal?

The _Jate’kara_ was approached by a curious looking droid. It had the heavy-duty treads of a WED-droid, but none of the spindly arms, and its chassis was completely encased in flex-poly. It read Sen’s hyperspace log, manifest, and ship diagnostics off his datapad and promptly declined his account. 

“Give me an itemized bill,” Sen had had a feeling this would happen.

The fuel prices were so exorbitantly high, there was no way they’d be able to afford jumping to Manda, even if they moved all their assets into into the fuel fund-

“Let me see that,” Ben reached for the datapad.

Sen handed it to him with an amused look, curious as to what Jedi trickery he was about to pull.

“We’ll have to go with cargo-grade, but that brings the cost down…have Cody transfer the needed funds from my personal account.”

Sen was deeply offended. “Cargo-grade? On my ship?”

Ben just winked at him. Sen really hoped he knew what he was doing.

Sen brought the needed credentials to Cody, who balked at the price.

“15,000?”

“Just do it.”

As Cody made the necessary transfers from the Royal Bank of Alderaan, Sen went over the new bill. It was still too expensive, but somehow, Ben had altered the data such that they would be charged for cargo-grade fuel but given standard. The droid wouldn’t know the difference. 

“You’d make a great pirate,” he told Ben as he re-entered the ship, over the telltale sound of fuel loading already underway.

“Too uncivilized.”

Cody and Sen rolled their eyes in unison.

“Thank you, though, for whatever you did.” Even if it was annoying how helpless they might have been without a conveniently placed former Jedi Master.

“Those were Alliance credits, weren’t they?” Cody asked.

“Yes, and since Luke is a passenger aboard this ship, this voyage is official Alliance business.”

So the rest of them just happened to be there. Good to know Ben respected and appreciated his friends.

“It’s not like that, Sen, and you know it,” Ben sighed.

“Stop reading my mind.”

“Brother, literally any of us can accurately guess what you’re thinking at any given time. He’s not special.”

“Yeah, but he’s not _aliit_. No mind reading privileges for him.”

“Very well, I’ll leave you two alone,” Ben said in the same voice he used when talking to Anakin.

Cody and Sen exchanged one silent look, then got to work running pre-flight checks. It was time to go home.


	23. Manda, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> implied sex, kids growing up too fast, discussion of accelerated aging and the aftermath of order 66, mentions of slavery and kidnapping of force-sensitive children

The air on Manda smelled like home. More specifically, the air in the mountains at the spaceport near the archives. If the air on Zeltros was an intoxicating spiced brew that left Sarad thirsty for more than a refill, the air here was a cool drink of water. Even better, holding a bouquet of his favorite native flowers and waving at him from the landing platform was Arya. 

“Welcome back, Sar’ika!” she shouted as soon as he set foot on the landing platform. 

He ran into her embrace and stayed there longer than necessary. How could one person smell so kriffing good?

“Didn’t party too hard without me, did you?” she spoke in a low and accusing tone.

“Never. Though I did somehow end up with more than I bargained for, again.”

Arya hummed in amusement just as Ben and Luke disembarked. 

“Long story, I take it?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you later. There’s something important I think you should know, though.”

“What?” Arya didn’t like the waver of uncertainty that crept into his voice.

“This... ordeal has made me realize that I don’t want kids.” Sarad almost sounded ashamed. “I understand completely if that’s a deal breaker-”

Arya dipped and kissed him, hard.

“Shut up. You’re perfect.”

Sarad was grinning uncontrollably, tears sparkling in his eyes, as he ran his thumb along her tattoos and kissed her again, slow and sensual. 

“Don’t cry, you goof.”

And so, he tried something else.

“In somewhat related news, I checked, and my sperm count is zero,” he said in a low, sultry voice, with a completely straight face.

“I- that’s…” Now Arya was crying, too. “That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” she sniffed.

They left the welcome back party before it even started.

\---

“That was…certainly something,” Ben commented with the same little smile he used to wear when he caught Anakin “running diagnostics” with Senator Amidala.

“He’s happy, so I’m happy,” was all Cody had to say about that. He was glad to have an excuse to change the subject.

“Listen, about Ebenn, if he figures out who you are he’ll probably rope you into recovering the entire Jedi Archives or something. He’s been searching for a willing Jedi ever since the war ended. If that’s not something you want to deal with, none of us will say a word.”

“I can only hope he doesn’t recognize me. We’ve met before, right after the Invasion of Naboo.”

“That was…the year I was born.”

“You’re right,” Ben realized after a pause, then marched on into the uncertain future, holding Luke’s hand. 

Cody still didn’t know why he ever bothered to warn him about anything.

\---

Ben and Luke settled into the bunks previously abandoned by Sarad and Lark, and Hoday took Sen’s bunk since Sen had agreed to sleep on the ship for now. Everyone spent 30 minutes finding pillows so Luke wouldn’t fall out of bed, and a step stool so he could reach the faucet in the ‘fresher. Satisfied that their lodgings were appropriately childproofed, the clones all shed their travel clothes and prepared for dinner. 

As Cody changed into his dress robes, he wondered if Luke had anything other than the simple tunics he’d been wearing. Ben probably wouldn’t even bother changing his nondescript clothing worn in a distinctly Jedi fashion, and at this point Cody didn’t care, but that didn’t mean Luke should have to wear the same clothes all the time. 

Cody finished straightening his robes in the mirror and turned to see Ben helping Luke into an exquisitely tailored outfit. Of course. Luke was practically Alderaanian royalty. The miniaturized version of Bail Organa’s favored style actually suited him quite well.

This probably explained a lot of things, Cody realized. He was no expert on nat-born children, but he’d heard that some were picky eaters, or fearful, ill-mannered, rowdy, or stubborn. Even with everything he’d been through, Luke was, in some ways, as mature as any clone his age. That probably wasn’t normal. At least he was easy to feed.

Luke tried almost everything at the banquet, save the alcohol and the blisteringly spicy Ryloth-style stir fry that was even a bit much for Cody. Ben and Boil, however, were eating it with no ill effects while happily conversing in the human dialect of ryl. Cody introduced Luke to his favorite fried meat pastries, just as Starburst had done for him, and they bonded over making messes on their fancy clothes.

“That was way better than the squares on the ship,” Luke sighed dreamily.

Cody chuckled. The square-shaped dry rations did get old.

Ben had apparently escaped the Archive Master’s notice for now, but it was only a matter of time. Cody woke early after a rejuvenating night’s rest and commed Rola. She immediately agreed to let him visit with his guests, and so Cody snatched Ben and Luke and spirited them away to the _Jate’kara_.

“Sen, wake up!” Cody bellowed through the ship, and Sen’s quick reply was a crash and a string of curses.

“The kriff do you want?” Sen emerged from the lower deck, rubbing his hip. Apparently he’d been sleeping down there, instead of in his bunk like a normal person.

“Not in front of the kid,” Cody chastised. 

“Whatever, _buir_.” 

“We need to go see Rola. If you wanna go back to sleep, I’ll fly,” he offered.

“Like hell you will.”

Sen loaded up on squares and instant caf, and one of the sweet rolls Cody had saved for him. His demeanor changed dramatically, from a foul-mouthed pilot to a glorious creature of the skies. It rather reminded Cody of himself. Judging by the sly smirk on Ben’s face, he agreed.

“Tell me, Cody, have you had any other recent misadventures with caf?”

“Honestly, I stopped drinking it and using those stims after I had that awful crash on Utapau. Last time I used it was…five months ago or so. Kept me awake when I needed to be. I also might have convinced some slavers that I was a Jedi and tried to adopt five kids, who, by the way, we’re going to meet today.”

“Shame. I would have liked to have you join me for caf.” There was a twinkle in Ben’s eyes that let Cody know he wouldn’t be getting out of telling those stories.

“I like tea, if it’s any consolation.”

Ben was doing that look again. The one of utter adoration. Cody returned his gaze steadily, studying his face. He hadn’t really noticed before, but in the bright sunlight it was quite obvious that his hair was turning white. Ben was what, 44? Cody supposed he’d catch up sooner rather than later, maybe he’d get white hair to match.

“What’s on your mind, Cody?”

“Oh, just, how we’ll be the same age in five or six years. I wonder if my hair will turn white like yours.”

“Well, your hair is a good deal darker than mine, it will most likely turn gray instead.”

“So, will Rex get white hair?”

“Rex has white hair,” Ben laughed, “He shaves it all off now.”

That sounded like Rex. He always was self-conscious about his hair. 

“I haven’t had the time to look into it, but I heard of some clones on Mandalore who devised a cure for the accelerated aging a few years back, if you’re interested.”

“Hm.” Maybe he’d look into that. If not for himself, then for Mak, Ruusaan, Omen, Reed, and any other _vod_ with children.

They landed well before noon, and Sen decided to join them in visiting Rola and the kids. They hadn’t seen each other since the new year, and Zo’dira was probably excited to see how his hair had grown back since the surgery.

Luke made fast friends with Uli, the spitfire girl who reminded him so much of Leia. The other twin, Ili, was quiet and gentle like Luke. Then, there was the dyad called Miyana, who had a unique understanding of the Force that was completely new to him. He wasn’t so sure about the loud twi’lek, who had climbed onto Sen’s shoulders and was still running blue fingers through his dark curls, marveling at his fast-growing hair. It made Luke uncomfortable just to watch, for he didn’t like when strangers touched his hair. 

The grown-ups talked about serious grown-up things, and Zo’dira eventually got bored and joined them. They started teaching Luke a game, and it wasn’t long before he realized that all five of them were like him and Leia. He smiled, for he wouldn’t have to hide his true nature around his new friends. He looked to Ben for approval, and Ben nodded, but urged him to be careful as always. 

The way Ben watched the children playing was fond but fearful. Cody frowned. Ben wasn’t supposed to be this withdrawn, this defeated. 

“I hate to say it, but they are all in danger.” Would it kill Ben to be a little less pessimistic?

“I know, Ben. That’s why I brought you here, thought you’d be able to help or something. Look, you’ve kept Luke safe this long, and Rola’s protected her kids too, but something’s changed. Is there anything you know about who is hunting Jedi? What to look out for? What you’ve been doing right?”

“The Sith…have access to the names of all the Force-sensitive children born before the fall of the Jedi Order. That may very well include everyone here but Luke.”

“How did they get the names?” Cody pressed.

“Do you remember the mission to Black Stall Station?”

“No, I can’t say I do.”

“Cad Bane had stolen a Jedi Holocron and kyber memory crystal.”

“Ah, yes, Rex hit his head on a pipe in Bane’s ship and we teased him for months.”

“Yes, well, the memory crystal is what holds the names of potential Jedi initiates, compiled by the Jedi Master who keeps the crystal. Most recently, it was kept by the Jedi seer Bolla Ropal.”

Rola gasped at the name of the rodian Jedi.

“Did you know him?”

“My lover, Ili and Uli’s father, was… Keebo was a cousin of Bolla Ropal. Keebo was like him, and he always said not to talk to Bolla, that he would take the children if he knew…”

“I think it’s best to assume he did know.”

“What about the others?” Cody cut the contemplative silence short.

“I don’t know,” Rola admitted, “the other three were all orphans sold into slavery on Mon Gazza.”

“Well, at least the Empire won’t find any of them on their original homeworlds. If they truly are orphans, there won’t be any connection to those places. Slavers don’t record names. I am most concerned about the Empire potentially tracking you.”

Rola instinctively shrunk at Ben’s words, and Cody moved as if to shield her. 

“May I?” Cody asked, thinking Rola might not want to speak on the sensitive subject. With her timid approval, he continued. 

“Clone troopers on Rodia hunted down and killed Keebo, presumably after the initial order; since he wasn’t a Jedi?” the question was directed at Rola, who confirmed what Cody suspected. “Rola took her children and fled, and they ended up on Mon Gazza. When I met them there, all five of the children were enslaved in the spice mines.”

“I see,” Ben stroked his beard. “How did you find the others?”

“I did not. Ili found them. They protected each other when I could not.”

“That’s…concerning. If they were able to find each other in the Force, then a trained Jedi hunter will be able to do the same.”

“Can you teach them how to protect themselves?” It was why Cody had brought Ben here in the first place. He already knew the answer.

“I, yes…I suppose.”

Something about seeing Ben like this sparked an untamed rage in Cody. Ben had the power to help, and yet he acted so helpless and detached. Where was the brilliant, rational, courageous Ben Kenobi he had come to consider one of his best friends? Cody wasn't about to watch him give up, and so he offered his encouragement in the only way he knew how.

“You can do better than that,” Cody grumbled. “This might be their only chance to learn from a Master. You could very well be their only hope for survival. Start acting like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I drew the first scene](https://thealluringsink.tumblr.com/post/631924203119050752/the-air-on-manda-smelled-like-home-more)


	24. Manda, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone has the hots for Cody, mentions of eugenics, Luke is way too good at cutting himself off from the Force, Ben confesses his unrequited love (Codywan in this story is platonic)

Rola taught Sen and Cody how to shave root vegetables and fry them to crispy slivers, which they would serve alongside re-hydrated fruits and protein-enhanced algae bread. The smell alone was delectable, and they would definitely be making this again.

“Were your kids ever picky eaters?” Cody had been wondering.

“Oh, yes,” Rola laughed to herself. “Before we left Rodia, Ili subsisted almost entirely on kuul milk. Unheated.”

Cody wasn’t sure what that was, but laughed alongside his friend nonetheless.

“Guess we’re lucky. Haven’t found anything Luke won’t eat, yet.”

“So, are you and Ben…?” Rola tilted her head inquisitively.

“Are we what?”

“…Together?” She looked pointedly at Luke.

“For now, yeah.”

“ _Vod_ ,” Sen elbowed him, nearly causing him to drop his knife, “ _kaysh jorhaa’ir beh...sa, riduurok_.”

“Oh. No, we’re not married,” Cody said, as if to Sen. 

Rola looked on in confusion. She could see the way Cody’s body temperature rose, from his head to his hips, whenever he was around Ben; something that was common in humans who were married to each other.

“So… you are raising a child together, but you are not married?”

“Yeah, I guess. It just sorta happened. Mandos believe you should marry before raising children, but accidental child acquisition isn’t that uncommon. He was doing a bad job without me, anyways.”

They called the kids back and served the meal, and Cody wondered if Luke would be better off if he did marry Ben. He knew that he would do anything for Luke, but did he want to be his _buir_? Could he commit to raising Luke to adulthood even if it meant putting up with Ben every day? He didn’t actually have to think about that. Of course he would. 

Ben had caught Cody staring, and watched as he appeared to have a silent conversation with himself. Halfway through chewing his food, he paused, squinted, nodded a few times, then rolled his eyes in resignation. It was rather endearing, how a hardened veteran could be so innocent and unspoiled in such mundane aspects of life.

“What?” This time, Cody had caught Ben staring.

“You’re cute,” Ben said without thinking. 

“ _Copaani mirshmure’cye, burc’ya_?” Cody replied on instinct, and Ben realized his mistake.

One did not simply call an adult Mandalorian ‘cute’.

“ _N’eparavu takisit_,” Ben corrected himself, “ _Gar ramikadyc, kandosii, verd’yc; bal cyar’la, ori’jate jag_.”

All good things. Cody graciously accepted the apology and the praise, with Sen barely containing his laughter beside him.

Once they ate their fill, the kids were surprisingly eager to learn from a Jedi Master. He had them all spread out in the sunlight and begin meditating, just like Cody had seen the few times he was in the Temple. Sitting, breathing, listening. Cody could do that.

Cody joined the younglings on the warm ground, breathing the fresh air and feeling the energy from the sun. The Force, he was told, was about the connections between everything in the universe, and he didn’t need to be a Jedi to feel the way the molecules of the atmosphere and the electromagnetic radiation from the nearest star gave him life. He focused on Ben’s voice, guiding him like he’d guided the troops into battle, through blinding explosions and suffocating, smoky darkness. He’d trusted Ben then, for Jedi did not need their eyes to see. This time, however, he kept his eyes wide open, the familiar dryness something that no longer bothered him.

Ebenn had followed through on his research proposal, and, as it turned out, Cody was not alone in forgetting to blink when in deep focus. Ebenn had even come up with a convincing explanation for it. It was a natural human response, likely pushed to extremes by the same Kaminoans that had no qualms about brutally forcing the evolution of their own species to survive environmental disaster. For the clones, a momentary lapse in perception could mean life or death on the battlefield, even with their advanced HUDs. The ones who hadn't developed habits of constant hyper vigilance early on, from their very first training exercises, had never made it off Kamino.

Cody hadn't even noticed the dry eyes until he'd stopped wearing his helmet regularly, back when he was trapped in medbay and feeling blind, deaf, exposed, naked, and useless without his armor. 

“Clear your mind,” Ben repeated. 

He’d said it multiple times before, but this time Cody knew it was meant for him. He'd grown agitated, his mind having wandered to old traumas. He breathed, re-centering himself somewhere in the security of the gravitational pull between his body and the planet, and experimentally closed his eyes.

Usually, he saw things in the darkness. Flashing lights, the ground surging past beneath his feet, the faces of _vode_. With Ben guiding him, he let himself dissolve into his surroundings, and saw nothing. Instead, he felt.

“When you open yourself up to the Force, when you abandon all pretense and let go your conscious self, you become indistinguishable from the energy of the universe.”

It was true. What else could it be?

“Master this, and you can protect yourself from those who wish to find and harm you.”

In the darkness behind his closed eyelids, Cody knew the others were there. He could detect each of them, with something like taste, or smell, or sight, and yet it was none of those. They were there, surely as he was breathing. Then, they began to blend together, like dispersed starlight, still there and yet no different from the air, the ground, the sun.

“Very good.”

“I will now attempt to probe your minds. Maintain your state of oneness. If at any point it becomes too much, simply say ‘ _solah_ ,’ and I will yield.” 

Cody couldn’t help how his heart rate went up.

“You may sit this exercise out, if you wish.”

The children pushed through the test, but Cody saw on their faces how they struggled. 

“Excellent. I want you to practice this with one another. You will build up your resilience over time. I did not push you, but a dark-side user will not yield, will not hesitate. You saw now how one actively searching for you is a pull away from oneness. If your mind is exposed, there is another way to shield it. You can cut yourself off from the Force.”

It was like dying, but not. Death was closer to what they had been practicing, for death was just irreversible oneness with the universe. Cutting oneself off from the Force was like convincing the universe that they were not, had never been, would never be alive. Luke was disturbingly good at it. In his meditative state, Cody knew when it happened, gasped audibly when he felt like he’d been dropped. His eyes snapped open and he found himself on the ground, in the sunlight, still breathing. Cody could see Luke: he sat a little ways away, face scrunched in concentration; and yet he was not there. Miyana joined Cody in staring at Luke in horrified awe.

The sense of emptiness around Luke faded as Cody placed his trust in his eyes. The boy was right there, alive, breathing, sweating. Ben pulled him back, somehow. Even when he was like this, Luke still knew Ben, trusted him enough to come back when he called.

“That’s all for today’s lesson. You did well, all of you.” Ben’s eyes lingered on Cody. 

“What do you mean?” said Miyana. “We couldn’t do it.” The two spoke in tandem, one picking up where the other left off, as if they shared one mind. 

“I’m not surprised,” Ben said, “The bond you share is powerful and rare.”

They knew. They were as alike as two biologically unrelated beings could be, somehow closer than the clones. They were everything Cody and his _vode_ weren’t, more comfortable with a shared name than the individuality each identical clone sought. Cody didn’t understand it, but it didn’t matter so long as they were happy and safe.

“According to ancient Jedi teachings, the connection between you comes from the source of life itself,” Ben mused.

“For you to cut yourself off from the Force, it would have to be as separate individuals, severed from the bond. I cannot ask you to do that. In fact, I hope none of you ever have need of this technique. The Jedi considered it a last resort, for one is not a Jedi without a connection to the Force.”

The two siblings exchanged a glance, then nodded at Ben. 

“Thank you, Ben, that was actually very informative,” Cody chased after Ben as he left the children to return to their games.

“I’m glad, Cody.”

“Does this mean…?” 

Ben shook his head, sensing Cody’s fear.

“There are many ways to know the Force, for it exists in all living beings. Even if you possessed the kind of Force attunement that the Jedi sought out, you cannot be forced to become a Jedi.”

“I thought you took initiates as infants?”

“Yes. To use the Force as a Jedi does, one must start young or else unlearn everything. That is part of why Anakin was difficult to train, his mind resisted the Force in ways that an infant's does not." It was true, but Ben knew that wasn't all Cody was asking. " We did not take infants from families who wanted to raise them, but raising a Force-sensitive child is especially difficult if one does not understand them. In some cultures, a Force-sensitive child is even considered a burden or a bad omen. Not only did the order take in younglings after their families had cast them out, but many were even entrusted to us after the family had initially refused.”

“Ah.” Cody realized he had some biases to reconsider. “Ebenn would really appreciate you telling him all that, you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ben was probably right. If Cody's child possessed cosmic powers beyond his understanding, he would have had an even harder time parenting. At least he knew how to raise normal children. He and Ben made a good team.

—-

The day-trip came to an end as the sun set, and the new friends said their goodbyes with promises to comm and write, and to visit again soon. Rola thanked Cody enthusiastically for his readiness to help protect her children and his foresight in bringing Ben here. He only hoped it would be enough. Luke fell asleep strapped into his chair shortly after they lifted off, and Cody soaked in the rare silence as he watched the stars.

“So, you and Rola…?”

It was the same tone Rola had used when she’d asked about Ben. This time, Cody was prepared.

“We’re not married,” Cody replied bluntly.

“That’s not exactly what I was asking,” Ben huffed a small laugh, “So you and she are not romantically involved?”

“No. I think she wants to be, but I don’t.”

“I see. Is there someone you are interested in?”

“Why do you care?” Cody asked, not impolitely. He was just curious.

“I care about _you_ , Cody.”

“…I know?”

It was pretty obvious, even if he wasn’t a Jedi. He and Ben went way back, had supported and cared for each other in battle after battle. 

“How would you feel about being with me?” Ben was open, sincere, vulnerable. Cody felt the need to tone down his sarcasm.

“I’m right here, Ben. What more do you want?”

“I…have had feelings for you for a long time. I’m not a Jedi anymore, and I have no reservations about acting on these feelings, if you’ll have me.”

“What exactly would that entail?” The sarcasm was back, suppressing Cody's growing unease.

“I want to support and confide in you, comfort you, make your favorite foods, kiss you breathless, grow old together. I love you, Cody.”

“Thanks?” Cody replied warily. Apparently, that was the wrong answer.

“I mean, that must have taken a lot of courage to say, and I appreciate it. So, thank you. I know you’re about as experienced with this stuff as I am, which is to say we’re both emotionally repressed teenagers, right?” Cody and Ben shared a laugh at the truth of it.

“That all sounds fine, actually, except the kissing part. It’s not something I want right now, definitely not something I’m ready for. I don’t know if I’ll ever want it. I think I’m aromantic. I will say this, though, I would willingly spend the rest of my life putting up with you if it meant Luke would grow up happy and safe. I might even want that. But…I don’t think it’s what I’m meant to do.”

“That’s ok,” Ben smiled. “I understand.” 

Kriff, he was sad. Cody didn’t want him to be sad. Besides, what he was proposing was hardly any different than what they shared now; what they probably would share for the foreseeable future. If it made Ben happy to call him _cyar’ika_, then why should he judge?

“I’ll think about it, ok? But before we start anything, I need to know that you can treat my _vode_ like family. They will always come first for me. Some of them still aren’t happy about how you left us on Utapau, you owe them an explanation at least. Deal?”

“Deal.”


	25. Manda, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blunt discussions of relationships and accelerated aging, discussions of finances and the fact that a clone trooper costs less than a starship

“Lark,” Cody whined from somewhere in the other room. 

She’d just returned to the archives, and already he wanted to dump all his troubles on her. She ignored him until she finished putting the food away.

“What happened this time?”

“Why do people keep falling in love with me?”

Lark raised her eyebrows and bit into a jogan fruit, letting Cody squirm under her unrelenting stare as juice dripped down her chin.

“I honestly can’t say.”

Cody glared like he wanted to scare a shiny into behaving, but Lark was no shiny.

“I mean, you’re bossy, judgmental, grumpy, violent, and you take us for granted,” she rambled without a drop of venom in her voice.

“I was literally your commander,” Cody was grinning ferociously at her teasing.

“At least you’re good at something. Anyway, what’s the problem?”

“Ben is in love with me.”

“Ok, well, that’s not your fault. How do you feel about him?”

“I tolerate him?”

“Does he make you feel happy? Safe? Appreciated?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you afraid of, then?”

“I’m not exactly afraid, but…he said he wanted to kiss me breathless, and just like that I couldn’t breathe. Not in a good way.”

“And you told him?”

“He was fine with it.”

“Good. Maybe you’re afraid of feeling like someone controls or owns you?”

Maybe. That would explain the overprotective urge he felt whenever he saw his _vode_ with their lovers. Lark had always been free with giving away her love, much more so than Cody. It was hard to imagine her shying away from affection, and yet she'd hit his insecurities on the mark.

“Did you ever feel like that?”

“I was... aware that it was a possibility. I was honest with myself about what I do and don't like, I set boundaries, Tyro respects them. For example, I don’t like terms that imply I belong to him, so he doesn’t use them. We communicate when things don’t go as expected. You and Ben are already good at that.”

She was right. It was his job.

“Ok, I want you to imagine having a relationship with Ben as equals, not as commander and general. Just people who enjoy each other’s company. Imagine that he is completely satisfied with you exactly as you are, that you need only turn to him to find solace or excitement or whatever else you might need.”

“Now what?”

“Now imagine that he unexpectedly gets sick, or has an enormous bounty on his head, or smells terrible all the time, or accidentally acquires another child. Would you still follow him?”

“That would be less than ideal. I’d complain, but yeah, I’d follow him. If any of those things happened, he probably wouldn’t even do anything about it. I swear, he doesn’t know how to take care of himself, let alone a kid.”

“You feel responsible for Luke.”

“I do.”

“You need to figure out if you’d actually thrive in a relationship with Ben, or if you’re just willing to do this because of Luke.”

“How?”

“Try it. It’s not like he’s asking you to marry him.”

“What if it goes wrong, and I hurt Luke?”

Lark pursed her lips and hummed in annoyance.

“What if it goes right, and Luke gains an amazing _buir_ , and Ben a ferociously loving _riduur_?”

“Maybe I’m just not ready, I have to do right by Luke and I can’t do that until-”

“Listen here, _di’kut_ , Luke adores you. You’re like, the best parent he has right now. If you decide you need to go on some epic quest before you deem yourself worthy of adopting him, just know that he is going to grow up whether or not you are there. The best time to be there for Luke is now.”

“But, what about when he’s older? What if he needs me then and I'm not...around?”

“There it is. You’re worried about the aging thing, aren't you? That you won’t live long enough to see him grow up.”

“Oh.” Cody was hit in the face with the truth that he didn’t like thinking about. “Kriff, that’s depressing.”

“Yeah, well, technically none of us should still be alive. Besides, the only time you’re guaranteed is now. Go tell him. Good talk, bro.”

“Right. Thanks.”

Lark really had a way of knocking him down from his lofty moral high ground. It was why she was his favorite. Finally, Cody left, and Lark was free to eat obscene amounts of fruit while lounging around in her underwear.

—-

“Ben.” Cody’s entrances were never subtle.

“Yes, Cody?” Ben had been speaking with the Archive Master, who had been animatedly scribbling down everything Ben said on actual flimsi. 

“I want to know more about the accelerated aging cure.”

Ebenn, too, was intrigued. Cody didn’t care if he knew, after all it would hardly be a bad thing if the treatment were to mysteriously go public.

All Cody got was a set of coordinates, and a name. Skirata. He really hoped it wasn’t the same Skirata of the _cuy’val dar_, the fanatical trainer who’d simultaneously awed and terrified him as a cadet. He thanked Ben and left as quickly as he’d come.

—-

For the second day in a row, Sen was rudely awakened by his annoying brother demanding his services as a pilot. He’d agreed to sleep in the ship to get away from all the noise of their shared quarters, damn it.

“Get your own ship,” he mumbled, and buried his face back into the nest of blankets strewn about the hyperdrive room.

He would have to, either way, unless everyone agreed to go to Mandalore together. Slick, Scorch, and the other commandos, formerly of Delta, Omega, and Ion squads, had taken the I-Told-You-So back to Kamino. 

“If I get my own ship, will you fly?”

“What? Where?”

“Mandalore.”

Sen groaned. 

“Hear me out, _vod_. Apparently someone from clan Skirata has developed a treatment for our accelerated aging. We could all live normal lifespans if we find them.”

Sen hauled himself up, and hummed at Cody with bleary eyes. 

“You think it’s those Null ARCs?”

“Seems likely.”

Great. Kal Skirata’s precious favorites, who thought they were better than everyone else just because they had higher than standard independence scores. 

“See, that was my initial reaction too, but we’re not shinies anymore. We’re just as competent and experienced as those guys, and besides, we’re all smart enough to settle things like adults,” Cody puffed his chest out like he had something to prove.

“I hope you’re right.”

Sen composed a message to the others outlining the new mission and inviting volunteers. Magic was the only one who accepted. Which was fine, because the three of them could squeeze into an ultra-light freighter, the kind that could outrun star destroyers. With any luck, they could be there and back in 18 standard days. Cody more than trusted the others to hold the fort down in case there was any trouble. He placed a priority order with Teoni for ‘something that can outrun Imperials'. 

Her response was almost immediate: “Now you’re talking.”

—-

When Cody entered the dining hall that evening, he was treated to the quiet, hopeful excitement of nearly a hundred _vode_. He hadn’t even done anything yet.

Lark joined him as he moved to take a seat, throwing an arm around his shoulders as she spoke with her mouth full.

“The things we do for love, eh, brother?”

She wasn’t wrong, but the way she waggled her eyebrows at Ben made her implication clear.

“You know I’m not just doing this for myself. Plenty of _vode_ want to see their kids grow up, or just live normal lifespans because we’re human and we deserve it.” Several _vode _clapped at that.__

____

____

“So, you’re saying we had that whole relationship talk, and you agreed that you want a chance at a normal life before you start anything, then suddenly you know of a possible cure?" 

“No. Ben told me about the cure on the way to Rola’s. I was going to look into it either way.” 

“Thanks, _vod_!” several voices shouted. Cody recognized them as people had declined the invitation as soon as they’d seen the name Skirata. 

Cody sat down beside Luke, the only person here who wasn’t making wild assumptions about his love life or his motives or his apparent death wish. 

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Luke asked mournfully over his plate. 

Cody hadn’t told him anything yet, how did he—? 

“Jedi, mate,” Boil murmured close to his ear. 

“Yes,” Cody huffed, “I am. I won’t be gone long, though.” 

Luke refused to look at him. He’d heard that too many times before. 

“Hey, kid, I promise. Look,” Cody fished out his datapad and showed Luke the star charts and starship specs, explaining how he’d been using them to calculate travel time and fuel and supply needs. 

Luke took the datapad and made a face of adorable concentration as he looked at every part of the map. Though he could not read, he explored the routes they’d take to get to Mandalore thoroughly as Ben watched in approval. 

“Ok,” Luke said when he was done, and handed the datapad back. His business concluded, Luke went back to eating. 

Later that evening, Cody was helping with the dishes when none other than Ebenn knocked on the door frame to the kitchen, his cousin Teoni right behind him. Cody awkwardly dried his hands on his shirt and extended his still-damp palm, then thought better of it. 

“Er…hi, welcome. You really meant it when you said you don’t hesitate on a sale, huh?” Cody checked his chrono. It was 23:22. 

“I came as soon as I heard. I have your ship.” 

Cody was impressed. Truly. 

“I’m just finishing up here, I’ll call Sen over and he can handle the transaction, sound good?” 

Teoni agreed easily, for she didn’t really care how the outcome was reached so long as she went home with her credits. For Sen, however, it was love at first sight. 

The starship itself was plated in black and chrome, with a sleek, sharp profile. An Imperial prototype straight off Kuat, the ship defied categorization: it was larger than most fighters but smaller and lighter than a freighter. It boasted decent shields, standard weapons, and, best of all, a class-0.7 hyperdrive. Sen knew it was meant for him. 

“How much?” 

“200,000.” 

“That’s… a lot,” Sen’s eyes watered. “I could buy, like, 250 of myself for that much.” 

It almost felt selfish, dropping that much money on a starship when he could have feasibly used it to liberate 250 brothers. Of course, the Kaminoans had minimum orders and there was no way he’d be able to afford that. Besides, Slick’s group was working on it, and he had an equally important mission involving this ship. He’d call it _Emuur_ , for ‘joy’. 

Magic joined them out on the landing platform to see what his brother was crying about. 

“She’s so beautiful,” Sen gasped when he sensed Magic’s presence. 

“That she is, _vod_ ,” Magic agreed, clapping his brother on the back. 

He moved around the ship, admiring it from different angles, and entered through the single hatch, only to run into the girl whose name he didn’t know. 

__“Heeeyyy, it’s you! Candy person!”_ _

__The girl in question laughed brightly, her hair newly colored the same blue as the candy he’d shared with her months before._ _

__“That’s actually my name now. I like Candy better than my real name, so I took your advice and changed it.”_ _

__“That’s awesome!” Magic bounced in the cramped space, overjoyed that she’d remembered what he’d said. The whole ship rocked with his motions._ _

__“Wow, guess this thing must be pretty light,” he joked._ _

__“5.5 tons in standard gravity,” Candy supplied._ _

__“Did you fly this here?”_ _

__“Sure did.”_ _

__“How was it?” Magic grinned conspiratorially._ _

__“I had to keep it on the lowest engine setting to stay within atmospheric speed limits.”_ _

__“Ohhh, Sen’s gonna love this.”_ _

__Magic exited the ship and called for his brother, who was just about to close the deal by paying upfront, in cash._ _

__“Bro, wait. No. That’s gonna…that’s gonna empty everyone’s funds for like three weeks. Pay in installments.”_ _

__Sen looked desperately between Teo and Magic, wishing Cody was here to handle the finances. He was just the pilot, the only time he did math was when he was in the sky._ _

__“Very well,” Teo almost looked annoyed._ _

__Magic looked over the various installment plans she already had drawn up, looking about as lost as Sen._ _

__“Why are interest rates higher on longer-term payment plans?”_ _

__“Because with those, I’m agreeing to wait for my credits,” Teo was past vague pleasantries, which Magic rather appreciated. A straight answer was better than politeness, anyways._ _

__Magic did a few mental calculations based on how much he liked to spend in a month and the collective salaries of the clones who lived together. He hoped it was generous enough, and that the others wouldn’t hate him for it._ _

__“Pleasure doing business with you.” Magic settled on a 6-month repayment plan with 3% interest. He sounded confident, but truthfully, he didn’t know whether or not they’d been swindled._ _

__Teo and Candy departed in their much less interesting terrestrial shuttle, leaving Magic and Sen to gush excitedly about their new toy._ _

__“Candy said it’s really fast, bro. Like, really fast.”_ _

__“I know!”_ _

__That was how Cody found them, giggling like kids over the newest addition to what could one day be their fleet. He inspected it, inside and out, satisfied for the time being._ _

__“Pack your things, but pack light. It’s cramped in there. We leave at 0900.”_ _


	26. Mandalore, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kal Skirata voice: stupid SJWs and their wet floor signs.
> 
> Thanks to [**scrapmetal**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapmetal) for beta reading! Go check out their fic [**No Care No Cause**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23865082)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> contains minor spoilers for S7E1: the bad batch
> 
> mentions of child abandonment, past injuries, bodily changes related to puberty and gene therapy, and degenerative disease

Kyrimorut was nothing like Cody had expected. He'd only seen Sundari and the bleached white sands of the equator that surrounded it. Here, tucked away in the northern hemisphere, the fortified compound was camouflaged in the dense forest. If they hadn’t had the coordinates, they’d have flown right past.

They were hailed from the ground as they circled the large lake nearby, the operator asking for identification in mando’a. It was a brother’s voice.

“ _Su’cuy aliit Skirata. Ibic al’verde Cody, teh akaata t’ad olan taray’tadyc. Jetii Ben Kenobi ru’chaa’dinuir ni. Me’vaar ti gar_?”

“Good thing one of us speaks mando’a,” Magic leaned over the back of Sen’s pilot seat to get a better look at the hologram.

Cody slapped a hand over Magic’s mouth, and translated for Sen as the operator guided them into an enormous covered hangar.

It was good to finally stretch out, after 8 standard days in the cramped starship. _Emuur_ was fast, but it could only carry so much fuel, so they’d had to stop twice along the Triellus trade route. Fortunately, the majority of the space they’d traversed was controlled by the hutts, and they’d reached the Mandalore sector without having to deal with the Imperials near Kessel.

The first person to greet them on the ground was a brother, one Cody recognized right away.

“Echo?”

He’d been too injured to participate in the mission that had brought Echo back, but he’d read Rex’s report and seen the schematics for Echo’s prosthetics. Cody was relieved to see he’d regained the color and softness in his face.

“ _Su’cuy_ , Cody,” Echo clasped Cody’s left arm with his organic hand, shocking him with the sheer strength of his grip. Echo was fine.

“Good to see you, too, _vod_ ,” Cody gripped his shoulder and brought their foreheads together, sharing a breath. Proof that they were both still alive.

Cody introduced Magic and Sen to the former ARC trooper. The three of them then proceeded to trip over one another in an attempt to catch up with Echo, sharing everything they knew with him, all at once.

“Yeah, Rex is alive, I know,” Echo laughed, eyes bright.

“Am I literally the last one to know any of this?” Cody complained.

“Well, we did live in a sinkhole for three years, so probably,” Magic retorted.

“Are the others here?” Cody asked, hopeful.

“Oh, yeah, they’re around. Hunter prefers to stay away from the comms is all. I’m helping out here since some of the guys are off-world. It’s soothing,” he gestured with his mechanical arm.

“You speak Mando’a now, I take it you’ve been here a while?”

“We come and go. Came here after we escaped Kashyyyk. What brings you here?”

“Heard there was a treatment for our accelerated aging.”

“That there is, brother. Mereel’s not here though, you’ll probably wanna talk to Ordo or Kal.”

So this was it, then. Kal Skirata was here. Cody suppressed the urge to shudder.

“He’s not so bad, Cody," Echo immediately sensed Cody's unease. "He was resourceful enough to build this place and generous enough to offer hospitality to any clone who made their way here. Just don’t insult him or his boys and you’ll be fine.”

Cody would soon learn that Kal’s boys were not just the nine former commandos who frequented the compound. There were also the two missing Omega commandos Darman and Niner, two troopers Magic knew to be alive and well on Kamino; in addition to former Jedi Bardan Jusik and Etain Tur-Mukan, and a little boy Cody would mistakenly call ‘Luke’ on multiple occasions.

Kad’ika, as they called him, was much like Luke. He was about the same age, Force-sensitive, and one of Cody’s many _ba’ade_. He supposed that made Kad and Luke cousins, and wondered if they’d get along.

Unlike Luke, Kad was the son of a clone. According to Darman’s squad mates Atin, Corr, and Fi, Darman was either extremely lucky or extremely unlucky when it came to reproducing. Darman had been distant ever since he’d learned he was a father, insisting on remaining in Imperial service to protect the boy. His brothers hadn’t even known he was still alive, until now.

The poor kid deserved to know his dad. Cody declared that if Darman refused to man up and be there for his son, then he might have to go ahead and adopt Kad himself. That was when he met Kal Skirata again for the first time in years, only to be informed that Kad was spoken for.

“Why does this keep happening?” Sen thought Cody should really stop offering to adopt every kid he saw.

“It’s alright, this one’s got _mandokar_,” Kal said of Cody as took his grandson and placed the boy on his shoulders. “What’s your name, son?”

Cody wanted to retort that he was not Kal’s son, that he too was already spoken for because he had two moms, thank you very much. Alas, Kal still managed to intimidate him, and so he replied, “Cody, sir.”

“Ah, yes, I remember. The clumsy one.” Kal pointed to Cody’s facial scar.

Cody glowered, daring him to keep talking.

“We didn’t have wet floor signs on Kamino, ‘cos the floors were always wet near the doors. Cody though, he kept slipping and wanted wet floor signs. So one day, he finally gets his wish and guess what? He slips anyway, and busts his face on the wet floor sign."

Sen and Magic were cackling. Traitors.

Cody really wished he could see the future, so that he could take the clever retort he’d think of in ten hours or so and use it now. Unfortunately for his ego, he was no Jedi, and so he wallowed in his embarrassment and left Sen and Magic to do the talking.

They did eventually get around to mentioning why they’d come, after many embarrassing stories of the command-track cadets. The topic changed, and the Omegas switched over to telling embarrassing stories of their own experiences with the aging treatment. Much more entertaining, in Cody’s opinion.

“Fair warning, you might start lactating,” Fi grinned wildly. Cody couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

“It’s true,” Atin said, grim-faced. "At first, your metabolism slows down but your pituitary gland takes a bit to adjust, so to your hormone receptors it looks like a prolactin surge. Eventually, everything just slows down. Takes some getting used to.”

Sen nervously ran his hands through his thick curls, which reached down to his shoulders when stretched after just four months.

“What about healing?”

“Yep. Healing, stamina, cell division, digestion, sleep, you name it.”

“Is it as bad as puberty?”

Everyone groaned at that, all three Omegas assuring them that it was nowhere near as bad as puberty. They were done growing. No longer would they wake up to find they were a full centimeter taller than the night before. Speed-running puberty had been brutal: painful voice drops, crowning molars, growing pains, clumsiness, acne, stretch marks, and constantly needing new clothes. Never again.

Kal proposed that they talk over a meal, meaning the conversation was about to get serious. Hunter’s exacting tastes had been put to good use on head chef duty. Dinner was loud, providing the familiar kind of noisy cover brothers would use to hide their plotting against the trainers, back on Kamino.

This wasn’t really plotting, but it almost felt the same. Kal was once a trainer, and part of Cody’s brain screamed that he could not risk him overhearing the plans. Thankfully, that changed when Ordo and his wife, Besany, joined them. Just having another clone nearby showing such open trust towards Kal had Cody relaxing. As he observed Ordo’s every move, Cody noticed that he didn’t eat as much as most _vode_ he knew.

“Ever since I started the treatment, my appetite’s gone down. Slower metabolism,” Ordo explained without prompting.

Cody tensed in his seat, still having not touched his food.

“Eat,” Ordo demanded, “or I won’t tell you anything.”

Ordo’s sly smirk reminded Cody that they were one and the same. Brothers. He could trust his brothers. He ate, and soon he was shoveling food in his mouth even as his eyes watered from the spiciness. Cody, Sen, and Magic all set their empty plates down at the same time with a satisfied sigh.

“ _Yai’yai’yc_,” Cody stated. So much, in fact, that he could feel his body working against him as he got sleepier by the moment. He needed caf.

—-

The six of them talked late into the night, over second and third helpings and two pots of caf. Cody wasn’t a medic, but the theory made sense. The genes that responded to the hormone treatments responsible for their controlled and rapid maturation were present in all humans, and did not turn off once they left the laboratories. The Separatists had attempted to target the over-expression of the aging-related genes with a virus, but it was ultimately Mereel who had succeeded in isolating the exact sequences to be targeted. The treatment was gene therapy via viral vector, the Separatist’s bioweapon turned into a cure.

“Wow,” was all Cody could say as he imagined the kind of dedication that must have taken.

“Kad helped,” Ordo declared proudly as he sat the sleepy boy in his lap.

Kad’s genome had pointed his uncle in the right direction, just like the depleting supply of Parjai’s stem cells was helping doctors regenerate the failing bodies of three clones on Utapau.

“Do you know of any clones experiencing rapid degeneration?” Cody dared to ask.

“Not here, but I know it happens. Why?”

“After we removed our biochips, three of my _vode_ on Utapau started experiencing sudden muscle weakness, impaired cognition, respiratory and digestive problems, chronic pain, and fatigue.”

“That…sounds almost like a brain injury,” Besany commented.

“Could be. That’s a risk with brain surgery, after all,” Ordo agreed.

“Can this treatment help them?” Magic didn't care about the specifics of genetics or brain injuries. He just wanted his brothers to be healthy.

“Maybe. In theory, it should still target the aging sequences. If the chip thing is the result of altered genes, I don’t know how it’ll affect treatment. I’ll ask Mereel, though, he loves this stuff. Oh, and he’ll probably want Parjai’s full genome too. For science.”

“I’ll ask Mak and Prana,” Cody sighed good-naturedly. He hadn’t even met the kid in person yet, and he was already learning to walk. It was probably time to go back to Utapau.

\---

Besany insisted she was just being a good host as she urged Ordo to go on ahead to bed while she made sure the guests were settled in for the night. Sen was more than willing to accept no less than seven fluffy pillows, which he piled on the sleeping mat on the floor in his preferred arrangement. Once Ordo finally relented and bid them good night, Besany dropped the question.

“You were sent by a Jedi, right?”

“Yes.”

“Ordo won’t tell you this, but the Jedi might be able to help you. What you described in your brothers sounds like the brain injury Fi had. He recovered with physical therapy and time, but I suspect a good deal of it was the Force-healing from Bardan.”

“Alright," Cody held eye contact for a long, silent moment as he pondered why she would tell him this. "Thank you.” He didn’t know if Ben could use Force healing, but the information was worth having. In truth, he didn't really know what Force-healing entailed.

With all the caf he’d had, Cody didn’t fall asleep immediately. Instead, his mind swirled with all the new information he’d gained in a way that was strangely restful in itself. He finally fell asleep after getting up to use the refresher for the fifth time in a row, surrounded by his brothers’ snoring.

They left early, because Cody’s _ade_ were waiting for him on Manda. Jaing gifted them a secure channel-locked comlink along with several data chips containing all the information they’d need to replicate the treatment. Echo even surprised Cody by sending him off with a box of gourmet Concordian tea.

They were, of course, welcome back anytime. _K’oyacyi_, kriff the Empire, don’t forget to comm. Wrecker was crying as _Emuur_ departed.

The trip back was long and cramped, but they’d succeeded. Between piloting and catching up on sleep, Cody fiddled with the data chips where he was curled up in the tiny cargo hold. They were as beautiful as any treasure, and to him and his _vode_ , just as valuable.

\---

They broke atmosphere on their landing approach around mid-day, but as the archives grew closer, they noticed a strange lack of activity. It was when they were denied landing clearance that they realized the entire compound was on lockdown.

Ebenn Q3 Baobab had been kidnapped by the Empire.


	27. Manda System, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more bullshit is happening in space. Contains vague character endangerment, alcohol use, non-graphic sex, siblings being awful to each other and laughing about it later, and dissociation-like behavior.

Unable to land, Sen maneuvered the little ship into geostationary orbit to conserve fuel as they attempted to contact the facility below. So far, they’d only been able to contact droids, but Cody’s clearance at least got them an explanation for the lockdown and security footage. Ebenn had apparently been arrested without a warrant on suspicion of harboring Jedi, and the footage showed that his assailants both wielded lightsabers. 

Cody’s first instinct was to warn Rola. If they were here for Ben, they might come for her kids. There was no way he’d be able to take her off-world in the already overcrowded _Emuur_ , but it was the least he could do to alert her to the danger and give her the coordinates to the safehouse on Mandalore. He opened a second comm channel and attempted to raise her, hoping she hadn’t already gone to bed.

Sen finally managed to contact an organic being. The hologram showed Teoni, looking exhausted, but nowhere as distraught as Cody. 

“Tell me everyone’s ok,” Sen sighed as he leaned on his elbows.

“It’s under control. Your family is fine, but I’ve essentially had to put them on house arrest. No one gets in or out.”

“You initiated the lockdown?”

“Yes, but this is standard procedure. A bunch of your siblings were gonna go break him out or something heroic, but like I said, I have this under control. Ebenn plays rich and senile whenever he gets arrested. If a bunch of clones stick their necks out for him, all of us look suspicious.”

“Alright, fine. How long until we can land? Our fuel won’t last forever.” Sen checked the fuel levels. 50%. They could stay up here for another 84 hours in low power mode, but he really didn’t want to.

“Sorry, it might be a while. Why don’t you land at the Yperio Memorial Shipdocks? I can put the three of you up in a hotel for the inconvenience.”

“No need,” Cody interrupted. “We can go to Rola’s.” He was fiddling nervously with the datachips again. “Can I speak to Sarad?”

“Sarad’s not here, have you tried his personal comm?”

“I- No, I’ll do that, thanks…” Cody wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say anything else.

“ _Emuur_ out,” Sen ended the transmission.

“Don’t break those chips,” Magic could see how tightly Cody was holding them by the paleness in his fingertips. “Sarad’s probably at Arya’s, just comm him.”

Cody tried, but there was no answer. Thinking they might be encountering atmospheric disturbances, Sen re-entered the atmosphere and headed for the tiny spaceport near the outskirts of the city. This time, Sarad picked up after only 45 seconds.

“Cody! You’re back! Sorry, I was, uh…doing things.”

“I’m things,” Arya called in a sing-song voice, her blurry form barely registered by the holocam as she swept past.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Cody asked scornfully.

“No, but judging by your face, nothing good?”

“Ugh, just…you're at your house, right? We’re coming over, keep your pants on.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Arya, Sen, and Magic all snickered at Sarad’s sarcasm.

The tiny spaceport was perfect for the tiny ship, and they made it to Sarad and Arya’s place after a 15-minute cab ride. Cody pounded on the door, datachips clutched in his other hand. To his relief, Sarad was wearing pants. To his exasperation, he was only wearing pants.

“Archives are on lockdown, some guys came and arrested Ebenn for harboring Jedi, we’re crashing here tonight,” Cody rolled his eyes at his brother’s cheekiness to hide his gnawing worry.

Sarad’s smile dropped. “Is Ben ok?”

“Yeah…I think so.”

Magic and Sen were quick to make themselves at home, Sen propping his feet on the counter as Magic raided the pantry. Cody and Sarad just stared at each other in awkward silence.

“I brought you a present,” at last, Cody handed the precious datachips to Sarad, who looked at them like he could read them with his eyes.

“What’re these for?”

Cody frowned at him, trying to remember when they’d last spoken in person, and realized this was probably the first he was hearing about the trip to Mandalore.

“Tell you what, it’s a surprise. Open ‘em up.”

Sarad plugged them in to his portable kiosk, scanning over the lines of data for a solid 10 minutes.

“Cody, I don’t know what any of this means. I’m not a geneticist.”

“That’s our genome. This is the cure for our accelerated aging.”

Sarad gasped, his face lighting up. “That’s some present, _vod_.”

“Yeah,” Cody smiled wide, “think you and the medics can figure it out?”

“I assume that’s a rhetorical question?”

Cody finally broke, and laughed. Sarad hugged him tight.

“What’s up with them?” Arya had been attempting to catch roasted nuts and grain puffs in her mouth, and took a handful of snack mix to the face for her distraction.

“Oh, you’ll see,” Magic bounced giddily.

Sarad was approaching her with a proud, almost tearful smile. She raised her brows in suspicion, but allowed him to sweep her off her feet and press kisses all over her face.

“Mm, I love you, too, Sar’ika, but what’s this about?”

“Cody just brought us the treatment for the clones’ accelerated aging. I think now’s a good time to break out that Nubian wine, no?”

“Oh!” Arya let out a laugh, followed quickly by tears. “Yes, I think you’re right.”

The two lovers were busy crying, so out of consideration, Sen took it upon himself to locate said wine, uncork it, and take a swig straight from the bottle. Sarad’s horrified reaction was more than worth it.

Cody tried to reach Rola one last time. No answer. The sun was beginning to set, so she’d probably be up in 6 hours or so. There was nothing more to be done. He gave in to the celebrations.

Going to bed early was fairly easy after so much wine, and Cody was perfectly comfortable stretching out on the couch. Much better than the cargo hold. Sen was passed out on the floor, Magic asleep in a chair under a pile of blankets. Cody was warm and happy as he realized this was just the kind of thing normal siblings did. He was just about to drift off when he was shocked awake by what he initially thought was crying.

Crying, followed by laughter? It was coming from the bedroom. Sarad and Arya had each other, if it was anything bad enough that they couldn’t take care of themselves, they’d call someone. They were probably fine. He shouldn’t worry so much.

The laughter became a sigh, followed by a squeal and a lustful moan.

Kriffing hells.

Tipsy as he was, Cody was determined to get revenge. He searched the living room and kitchen for something to make annoying noises with. Stored with Sarad’s weapons, in the true _mando_ fashion, was a _bes’bev_. Perfect. Cody only knew how to play one song, but it would do the job.

With the rhythmic thumping from the bedroom acting as his metronome, Cody delved into a spirited performance of _Vode An_.

Sen and Magic must have been really drunk, for instead of complaining, they launched right into the accompanying vocals while still half-asleep.

“ _Motir ca'tra nau tracinya_. _Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a_. _Aruetyc runi cet slarycina solus cet o'r_. _Motir ca'tra nau tracinya. Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a._ _Aruetyc cet slarycina runi trattok’o_,” they chanted from memory alone.

“ _Usen’ye, ra ven’cuyi tal’galar_,” Sarad belted out to the tune of the last line. 

In the dark, five voices laughed themselves to sleep.

—-

Before the sun rose, Cody stepped outside and commed Rola once more. This time, she answered.

“Rola, listen to me, you’re in danger.”

“I- good morning to you, too.” 

Cody’s confident sarcasm was rubbing off on her.

Cody sighed. “Good morning. Yesterday?…Recently? I don’t know exactly when, but two Imperial agents came to the archives and took Ebenn. I can only assume they’re here for Ben and Luke. If they find you-”

“Stop. What would you have me do?”

“If you need to get off-world, I know of a safe place where you’ll be welcomed. Kyrimorut, on Mandalore.” He transmitted the coordinates. “Many of my brothers are there, as well as former Jedi. They’ll protect you. Please be safe.”

“Cody…what about you?”

“Ben is in danger. I need to stay with him.”

Rola wasn’t going to argue with the resolve in his voice. She simply thanked him.

“May the Force be with you,” Cody said softly, hoping it was reassuring.

“And with you,” Rola repeated, like it was a familiar prayer.

Next, he tried comming the archives. He was redirected straight to a droid, who explained that the Archive was on lockdown and any business inquiries should be redirected to the Baobab Merchant Academy. Ben didn’t answer his private comm, either. One by one, he tried each of his _vode_. He’d nearly gone through all of them when he got a comm back.

“Cody? You’re back?” It was Boil.

“Got back yesterday. We’re at Sarad’s. Are you alright?”

Boil yawned audibly. “Yeah, we’re fine, ‘m just tired. How’d the mission go?”

“Success. Sarad has all the data.”

“Nice.”

“Is Ben around?”

“Um…he’s meditating, I think. Should I check?”

“Please. And Luke?” Cody was more anxious than he’d admit.

“He’s asleep. I’ll find Ben.”

Cody could tell where in the compound Boil was by the sound of his footsteps. Judging by the metallic echo and soft buzzing, he was in the ray-shielded portion of the underground data rooms. Nothing on the planet would be getting through to them.

“Um…he’s here, but he’s not responding.”

“Ben?” Cody tried. 

“Qui-Gon,” Ben answered. 

“Would you mind contacting me when he starts making sense?” Cody requested.

“Sure, _vod_. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah. See you later.”

When Cody re-entered the house, it was once again full of laughter. His brothers had always been light sleepers, as evidenced by the impromptu performance the night before. Currently, Sen and Magic were debating whether or not they’d dreamt it.

“No, you actually went and did that, because you are horrible, horrible people,” Sarad griped as he mixed a bowl of space-waffle batter.

“I kinda thought it was funny,” Arya confessed into her tea.

“Cody! Be our tiebreaker! Did we or did we not perform _Vode An_ in the middle of the night?” Magic hollered over the counter.

“Oh, we did. Sarad and Arya were being too loud so I had to kill the mood,” Cody shamelessly settled the debate.

“See? Horrible.”

—-

After a sugary breakfast, Cody joined Sen and Magic on a run through the nearby park while Sarad and Arya got to work decoding the treatment. Between a field medic and a plant geneticist, they’d figured they knew enough to learn the rest.

Panting slightly but feeling energized, Cody answered his comm on the first chime.

“Boil?”

“Ben’s lucid again. He’s askin’ about you.”

“Alright, put me through.”

“Cody?”

“Yeah, I’m here. We’re all ok, how about you?”

“I…I need to get to Tatooine.”

“Now?”

“I had a vision.”

“Ok. What’s your plan?”

“You were with me, in my vision.”

“I know, I’m coming with you, how do you plan to get past the lockdown?”

“Oh. That.”

“Tell you what, we’ll figure something out. Standby for my signal, ok?” Boil to the rescue. 

Cody heard footsteps, likely Boil moving into another room. “He’s not acting like himself, _vod_. He’s distracted, keeps talking to people who aren’t there,” Boil continued.

Cody made a worried hum. “Just…get him out safe, don’t take any unnecessary risks, please.”

“You know us, Cody. We’ll get the job done.”

—-

Boil’s signal came, several hours later, from high orbit. Sarad took the three of them to the spaceport and dropped them off, which Cody only realized when Sarad refused his offer to pay for the long-term speeder parking.

“I’m not going with you,” Sarad explained.

“You have to-”

“No, I don’t. Calm down. Think. Do you really think the Empire won’t notice if a bunch of ex-clone troopers suddenly leave the archives? Besides, I can’t exactly work on the treatment without the archive’s facilities.”

Cody tried to protest.

“Look, I’ll miss you too, but I’ll be fine. Now get going.”

Cody sulked a bit but obeyed. When _Emuur_ docked with the _Jate’kara_ in space, he found that about half his other _vode_ opted to stay in the archives. The ship felt too empty.

“Boil,” Cody acknowledged his brother, but his voice was low and sad.

“Hey, lighten up a bit. You did it,” Boil was of course referring to the last mission.

“Yeah, I just…I didn’t think this would happen so soon. I don’t want to have to leave them.”

“Go talk to them, _vod_ ,” Boil gently pushed Cody towards the passenger lounge.

Luke was curled up on the inertia-dampening cushioned seats, staring with blank focus at a hologame he was playing. Ben had his head in his hands, looking more exhausted than usual, but met Cody’s gaze with a small smile and stood up to embrace him. Cody let him. Ben was trembling.

Cody helped Ben sit back down, his touches lingering and steady. He was wracking his brain for strategies that worked to calm Ben down when he remembered Echo’s gift.

“Hey, Ben. Want some tea?”


	28. Tatooine, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol use, stress-induced temporary non-verbalism.

Cody and Ben drank their tea in relative silence, Luke having fallen asleep with the hologame controller on his chest.

“Do you know what day it is?” Ben said, seemingly out of nowhere.

“No, should I?”

“Well, maybe not, but today marks four years since the official end of the Clone War.”

“Ah.” Cody thought back to the period immediately following the Battle of Utapau. He’d been so anxious, so confused, had lashed out at his brothers when they tried to break regs. How little it all mattered now. 

“That’s around when I first used your lightsaber,” Cody realized.

“I should like to see you wield it,” Ben smiled warmly.

“What, so you can judge my form?”

“Now, now, I wouldn’t call it that.”

“Hm.” Cody leaned forward and refilled both their cups.

“Do you know your birthday, Cody?”

“No, it’s probably in the databanks on Kamino somewhere. Why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking, a day like this marks the fourth year since the war ended, and so it also marks the beginning of your new life. If you need a date to celebrate, it could be today.”

“Right, because the first thirteen years were just a trial period,” Cody replied sarcastically. 

As if the time he’d spent on Kamino and in the army wasn’t part of who he was.

“I didn’t mean-”

“Then why’d you say it?”

“Sorry.” After a beat of silence, Ben and Cody shared a dry laugh.

“It’s fine. Besides, most of us celebrate Prime Day. That’s Jango’s birthday, and it’s a special thing, rather than having birthday celebrations literally every day. It’s fun. Big celebration, all your brothers are in on it, all ages.” They’d last celebrated on Utapau, as many _vode_ gathered in one place as they could manage. Cody missed them.

“That’s…fascinating. I never knew,” Ben admitted a bit regretfully.

“We actually did celebrate it during the first year of the war, wherever we were deployed. Wasn’t the same. Even the younger guys who were still on Kamino thought so. After that, it was more of a squad thing if you needed something to celebrate.”

“How are you so resilient?”

“It’s in my design specifications, sir,” Cody joked half-heartedly.

“You’ve been dehumanized at every turn for your whole life, lost everything, and yet you retain your sense of humor. You are truly the strongest man I know.”

“Right.” Cody didn’t want Ben’s pity.

“How do you do it? For years, longer than you’ve been alive, I was so entirely convinced that the Jedi path was the right way to live. Now that it’s gone, I’m just…”

“Lost? Me too. But I know my worth, I have my family and a duty to protect them, and I have you.” Cody was sincere, fearless.

“You’re amazing.”

“You’re a kriffing Jedi. You know what’s amazing? The way you throw yourself around, survive falls from any height, heal things, see the future.” Cody accented his description of the Jedi as a whole with arm gestures and sound effects, mimicking two Jedi leaping to the front lines, sabers blazing. His attempt at humor did not have the intended effect of cheering Ben up.

“You’ve been having visions, haven’t you?” Cody guessed.

“Yes,” Ben’s voice cracked.

“Do you wanna tell me about them?”

Ben considered it for a moment, his gaze somewhere far away. 

“Not yet.”

“Ok. There’s another thing I’ve been meaning to ask, you don’t have to answer right away. Do you know how to use Force-healing?”

“I know the basics,” he breathed out. “I’ll tell you more later.” 

“Sure. You should rest.”

“Please stay with me,” Ben sounded fragile.

“Alright.” Cody got up and offered Ben his bunk. He scooped Luke up and tucked him in as well. 

“Going to bed already?” Ukid said when he noticed Cody had retreated from the lounge.

“Time is meaningless in hyperspace. Besides, you don’t know my life.” Cody hadn’t slept all that much at Sarad’s anyways.

Ukid seemed to consider the nature of time dilation as Cody rather unnecessarily shut off the lights in both the cabin and the lounge, leaving him in darkness. Fine, he could eat snacks in the other lounge.

Sleeping by Ben’s side was nothing new, nothing to be nervous about. With how the bunk was tucked into the wall, it was warm enough that Cody didn’t even mind the way Ben predictably hogged the sheets. He turned over and let himself rest.

—-

Cody only slept for about five hours, if the relativistic shielding was working properly and keeping them in sync with the standard galactic dimension. He left Luke and Ben in his bunk to use the ‘fresher and find something to eat.

“Hey, Cody,” Mey had had the same idea and offered him some of her squadron-size bag of snack mix.

“I’m honored,” Cody shoved a handful in his mouth, knowing that Mey didn’t share with just anyone. She must have missed him.

“Everyone’s in the port-side lounge. Didn’t want to disturb you.”

Cody followed her to the other side of the ship, which broke out in cheering loud enough to be heard from the other side of the ship as soon as Cody entered. 

Cody waited for the noise to die down before asking, “where did that _uj'alayi_ come from?”

“Hunter made it! I’m not the only one who brought souvenirs from Mandalore,” Magic grinned deviously. 

“I don’t have any extra syrup, though. I thought about using the dextrose solution in the IV bags but decided against it.”

“I should put you in the brig just for saying that.” Sen looked scandalized.

“Good thing we don’t have a brig, since it’s full of all the junk you insist on hauling around!” Magic retorted excitedly.

“Upgrades in progress,” Sen insisted.

“Just eat the cake.”

Cas proposed a toast to Cody, Sen, and Magic, for successfully bringing back the aging treatment and the _uj_ cake. He moved around the lounge, distributing the awful cheap beer he insisted wasn’t so bad. Cody accepted a bottle, but only to raise it in recognition of Mereel, Jaing, Ordo, Sarad, Arya, and all the medics at the archives who would actually make this happen. He handed the beer off to Sen immediately afterwards, he couldn’t stomach the taste.

The lounge and the three adjacent cabins were filled with a quiet sort of happy excitement that Cody couldn’t reconcile with the dread he still carried. He tried to channel the respect and gratitude he’d felt on Mandalore when Ordo and Besany had practically handed him his future, because he knew his _vode_ were now experiencing the same thing for the first time. Still, the blurry security footage of two lightsaber-wielding Imperial agents haunted him.

They couldn’t get them here, he reminded himself. A ship in hyperspace did not exist in realspace; it was impossible to tell exactly where one would revert even with initial jump coordinates. Ben had done his research on Tatooine, independently verified by both Chatterbox and Puzzle, and now had Force-visions on top of that. Chatterbox was a chatterbox, but he and Puzzle had been trained to resist interrogation as well as any _vod_.

“Cody?” Cas was smart, he knew to vocally announce himself before anything else when Cody got like this.

Cody tried to reply, but realized he couldn’t speak when he only managed a strained noise like a mynock’s cry.

“Want some water?”

_Tea_ , Cody signed.

It wasn’t quite as strong as he liked it, but Cody was thankful nonetheless. 

“You did good, Cody,” Cas placated. “Thank you.”

_Not over yet._

“You worried about those inquisitors?”

Cody’s eyes met Casaalan’s in horrified curiosity.

“That’s what Ben called them. The Jedi hunters.”

This was bad. The term ‘inquisitor’ implied a level of organization Cody did not realize the Empire was capable of. Had Ben known about them all along? Cas gently took Cody’s mug before he could crush it in his grip.

“EQ3 is fine, and he’s recording as much about his encounter as he can remember. The archivists are working to find out more about them as we speak. All of us have your back, Cody.”

“He’s right.” Ben had entered the lounge in his silent Jedi way, and now stood behind Cody as he placed heavy hands on Cody’s shoulders.

Cody didn’t flinch, which had Cas watching them suspiciously. Cody rarely even let brothers touch him like that without warning. Maybe Ben had warned him, somehow. Jedi often formed bonds with their learners and, during the war, their commanding officers, allowing them to sense the emotions of others and communicate without speaking. Cas hadn’t realized Cody and Ben were that close.

“It’s ok,” Cody told Cas. He was verbal again, so whatever Ben was doing was working.

“Where’s Luke?” Boil asked, “He might want some cake.”

“Asleep.” Ben’s voice was so warm. “Why don’t we save him a slice?”

Ben was sitting beside Cody now, and accepted a beer from Cas even as Cody silently judged him for his taste in alcohol.

“Congratulations, all of you,” Ben raised his bottle, “This aging treatment is well-deserved good news. To the future.”

The _vode_ all toasted with Ben, and yet their confusion and unease radiated through the Force. 

“You don’t trust me,” Ben realized out loud, “That’s fair.”

A couple of _vode_ snickered at his unfiltered honesty.

“Why’re you being so nice?” Mey asked.

Cody knew she was making herself vulnerable by confronting Ben like this. A Jedi could see right through the expressionless mask she relied on to throw others off.

“I want to get to know you, as people,” Ben stated plainly.

“So you didn’t see us as people before?” Mey jabbed.

“I saw you as a Jedi sees others. They taught that life is sacred, but that no individual is inherently worth more than any other. Given the circumstances, I did not allow myself to form attachments or meaningful relationships with any of you, save perhaps Cody. Now, I am no longer a Jedi, and I’d like to try again.” 

Ben handled that better than Cody was expecting. 

“Alright,” Mey relented. “To the future.”

“Just so you know, if you break Cody’s heart, I’ll break your legs.” Ukid apparently did not know the meaning of subtle.

“Thanks, _vod_ ,” Cody said through a tired smile.

—-

Ben described Tatooine as a wretched hive of scum and villainy, though he'd only been there once before: the same year Cody was born. His was a rather harsh judgement of the planet for having barely even set foot on the surface. From space, it just looked like a bright ball of sand baking in the twin suns. 

Somehow, Ben knew just where to find the Lars homestead. Anakin must have told him. The _Jate’kara_ set down a respectable distance from the domed entrance, and Cody accompanied Ben and Luke to meet the moisture farmers. They were greeted with the business end of an old slugthrower.

“Are you Owen Lars?” Cody asked the man behind the rifle. 

He lowered his weapon, his weathered face squinting suspiciously at each of the visitors. Ben introduced himself as Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, friend and mentor to Anakin Skywalker, and Luke as Anakin’s son. Cody was just Cody.

“Always wondered what happened to ‘im,” Owen said gruffly as he cast a pitiful look at Luke. “Come inside.”

Owen was pragmatic, smart, and voraciously curious. He was quick to reason that Ben and Cody had identified him as Luke’s closest living relative, and that it had something to do with the fall of the Jedi. He also demanded to know what had become of his step-brother, how Ben had survived, who had raised Luke up to this point, and what a clone trooper was doing out of the Imperial army.

“All in good time, my friend,” Ben assured.

Beru Whitesun-Lars was perceptive, offering to show Luke the moisture vaporators when she sensed the conversation moving into territory unsuitable for a young child’s ears. Luke eagerly accepted, and Cody tagged along in case there was any trouble. Despite the apparent danger of Tusken Raiders, Beru seemed perfectly comfortable coming out in the evening like this: when the desert released its oppressive heat and the deadly suns provided only enough light to see by. 

“I thought you might like this,” Beru said as she balanced Luke on one hip so he could see. “Your dad really enjoyed tinkering with this kind of stuff. Did you know he built a droid and a podracer when he was just a kid?”

“He was a pilot,” Luke declared proudly.

“That he was.”

“I’m gonna be a pilot, too.”

Beru smiled.

“What’s it doing?” Luke asked as the vaporator began to hum.

“This machine pulls water from the air for us to drink. Usually, it’s too hot for water to sit around on the ground, so we have to pull the air in, cool it down enough that the water falls down, and seal it up so it doesn’t evaporate again. When the suns set, the air cools down a bit and that’s the best time for the vaporators to work.”

“There’s water in the air?” Luke laughed like she was joking.

“There is. Try this, cover your mouth with your hands and breathe into them.”

Luke did so, and, to his amazement, found a sheen of moisture covering his palms.

“Oh, the water is just really small.”

Cody and Beru both laughed at that. 

“What’s that?” Luke pointed to a few rectangular stones set perpendicularly to the flat expanse of the desert.

“Tombstones. Owen’s father is buried there, beside your grandmother, Shmi.”

“I didn’t know I had a grandma.”

“Everyone has a grandma,” Beru replied, then remembered Cody, who only grinned smugly at her slip-up. Luke then shocked her by jumping to the ground and running straight for the tombstones. 

Luke knelt in front of Shmi’s grave, running his hands through the sand the exact same way his father had done, years before. Beru found it unnerving.

“He can sense things,” Cody explained. “Force echoes.”

“He’s like his father,” Beru whispered.

“Why was he mad?” 

“Who?”

“My daddy. He came here, and he was mad. Why?”

“He’d just lost his mother, like you. He was so sure he could save her. I remember, he promised her that he’d never fail again, that he would learn to save people from dying.” Beru shuddered.

“Did he?”

“I don’t know.”

“Beru?” Owen called from the house. “Come on inside.”

This time, Cody was the one to carry Luke back to the house, where Ben and Owen were waiting.

“Hey, kiddo,” Owen greeted Luke, “What do you think about staying here with us for a while?”


	29. Tatooine, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for kitchen fire and Ben being neglectful

“Are you alright, Cody?”

Cody was seated on the extended boarding ramp, staring mournfully at the dark silhouette of the dome that marked the Lars homestead. Ben knelt beside him when he didn’t immediately answer.

“I just…I thought…never mind.” Cody was quick to swallow his melancholy.

“I will not. Your feelings and opinions matter,” Ben countered, just as quickly.

“I’m gonna miss him.” 

Cody missed Luke already, though he was only a few hundred meters away, spending his first night at home with his newly found family. Ben and Cody remained close by, having promised Luke that they wouldn’t leave him until he was settled.

“He will miss you, too. But you have a duty to fulfill to your _vode_ , do you not?”

“Of course. But what if I never see him again?”

“Then you will live, knowing that you have made a profound difference in his life. Besides, what’s stopping you from coming back?”

“I don’t know, the Empire?”

“You don’t know if the Empire will stop you,” Ben twisted Cody’s words and deflected them back at him. “Besides, the Empire hasn’t stopped you yet, why should you let it stop you now?”

“Because, Ben, I’ve seen how this goes. The majority of the Empire’s enforcers are my own brothers, you know what they’re capable of. They know how to overcome insurmountable odds, and now they’re backed up by the kind of resources the Separatists had. We’ve had enough close calls from underestimating them.”

“Hm,” Ben just smiled, much to Cody’s annoyance.

“Do you even hear me?”

“Of course.”

“Why is it that every time I warn you, you just march in anyways?”

“I do what I must. While your caution and intellect are appreciated and have saved me on many occasions, I must listen when the Force tells me to act. Besides, you always had my back.”

“ _Utreekov jetii_,” Cody huffed under his breath.

“Who is the more foolish: the fool, or the fool who follows him?” Ben sounded far too pleased with himself.

“ _Gar shu’shuk_.” Cody couldn’t believe he might actually be in love with this man.

Ben’s laugh was such a wonderful, rare sound. It had Cody feeling warm despite the desert chill. He let Ben embrace him, both of their bodies still shaking with quiet laughter. It was like Lark had said: just two people who enjoyed each other’s company. No pretenses, no expectations, just…existing, together. If this was what being in love felt like, then it wasn’t as scary as Cody had first thought.

Of course, the moment was cut short by the smell of something burning coming from inside the ship. Cody had figured something like this was bound to happen eventually. It had been suspiciously quiet for far too long. The fire suppression system did its job as the _vode_ all spilled from the ramp and into the desert. Magic and Verd looked a bit scorched, and Sen was furiously wailing at them over whatever mess they’d caused. Cody just leaned into Ben’s shoulder and laughed.

“I was just trying to make Luke a birthday cake,” Magic explained as he hauled his bedding out of the ship to air out the smoke.

The look on Ben’s face told everyone that he had completely forgotten.

“Nice going, Ben,” Onoff said as he purposely bumped into him on his way past.

“It is his birthday, right? He was born four days after the end of the war?” Ukid sat on the sandy ground, having forgone his usual sleeping arrangement for the novelty of roughing it in the desert.

“That’s correct, it must have slipped my mind.” Ben actually looked ashamed, which had the _vode_ grinning wickedly from where they encircled him.

“Eh, don’t worry ‘bout it, that’s why we’re here. We got your back, General,” Boil was gruff and playful as he addressed Ben by his old rank.

Sen finally emerged from his precious ship, apparently finally satisfied that the fire was out and the air scrubbers doing their job. He’d need new air filters, and Magic and Verd were paying for them.

“Hey, Sen, we’re sorry, we didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re still responsible for fixing this mess.” Sen was holding something metallic, apparently untouched by the fire.

“What’s that?”

Sen revealed the miniature model ship, built from spare parts and scrap metal.

“Idi’jil was working on this, for Luke. I figure it would make a good gift.”

“That’s perfect!” Nau’ur lit up with excitement.

Cody smiled at the heartwarming enthusiasm of his _vode_ as he turned toward Ben, only to find that he was not there.

Stupid sneaky Jedi.

A sweep of the camp and the slightly toasted ship revealed that Ben was not in the vicinity at all. Apparently he’d evaded everyone’s notice and snuck off into the night, alone. Typical. Cody could only assume he was listening to the Force again, having forgotten that most people, including the clones, couldn’t hear the Force constantly telling Ben to run off and do reckless _osik_. Cody wasn’t going to worry about him. Ben was a stubborn, inconsiderate, capable adult who could do whatever the hell he wanted, and Cody was going to sleep.

Cody didn’t go to sleep.

He rose with the suns, the others still snoring away. They probably had hyperlag, as their ship’s cycles had been a few hours offset from local time. That meant Luke probably had hyperlag too, and with no sign of Ben, Cody was stuck being the only one awake. He should probably make sure the others didn’t all wake up with sunburn.

Despite having laid perfectly still for the past seven hours, Cody had sand everywhere even before he’d arranged tarps and blankets to shade the sleeping _vode_. Maybe the Lars' home had a sanisteam he could use. More likely a sonic shower, he realized as the vaporators hummed back to life.

Beru emerged from underground shortly after, presumably to collect fresh water. She seemed shocked to find 10 clones asleep on the ground in front of her house.

“Magic and Verd set the kitchen on fire last night,” Cody told her through a yawn.

“I had no idea, why didn’t you come to the house? It can be dangerous at night!”

That was reassuring.

“Um. I didn’t even consider that. If it makes you feel any better, some of the guys were having fun camping out.”

Beru did not know what to say to that, scoffing lightly and resuming her work.

“Did you know it’s Luke’s birthday?”

“No,” Beru gasped in surprise.

“My brothers were trying to make a cake, that’s how they set the kitchen on fire.” Cody explained, then paused between disjointed thoughts.

“How’d he do?” he asked in a sudden moment of mental clarity.

“Luke was shy at first, but he ate and slept well. I’m surprised by how polite he is.”

“Yeah, he was…actually, I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you. Classified info and all that. Do you have a shower I can use?”

“Are you alright?” Beru studied him with concern.

“No. I have sand everywhere.”

“Perhaps you’ll think twice before you camp out in the open desert again?” Beru motioned for him to follow.

Cody left a short message for whoever woke up first. He was not going to be like Ben. He followed Beru inside to an underground complex that was much larger than he’d expected. Several old but well-maintained droids milled about the central courtyard, while the living areas were all tucked away in the shade.

“Here’s the refresher, feel free to clean your clothes as well. Will you be staying for breakfast?”

“I, um, we have our own food…” but the kitchen was a mess. Cody took a deep breath and started over. 

“Ben disappeared and we’re not leaving without him, so to answer your question, yes, we will physically be here for breakfast. If you don’t have enough for all of us, we should be fine if we can borrow your kitchen.”

“Of course. I’ll let you get cleaned up.”

Cody let the sonic pulses shake the sand free from his clothes and hair, then set his clothes aside and stood under the ultra-fine cleansing mist for far longer than necessary. While attempting to mentally catalog all the replacement parts and supplies needed for the _Jate’kara_ , Cody unceremoniously passed out on the floor. 

That was how Luke found him.

“What are you doing?” 

“Ugh.” 

Everything had been going fine, why did people need his attention? Cody cracked an eye open, expecting to see a _vod_ , and scrambled upright when he found Luke instead. Realizing that the soft thing he’d been resting on was a pile of his clothes, he quickly covered himself and looked around frantically as if expecting an attack.

“Are you ok?”

“I-I, yeah, I’m ok. Must’ve fallen asleep. By the way, happy birthday.”

“Oh, yeah! I forgot!” 

At least Ben wasn’t the only one. Cody dressed himself while Luke was distracted and stepped outside to find the suns much higher than expected. Maybe Ben had returned by now.

The other _vode_ had found their own way into the house and had generally been taking care of themselves like responsible adults. Whoever had made caf deserved a medal. Slightly less foggy-headed after imbibing his drug of choice, Cody did a headcount and found everyone present, including Ben, who was seated at the dining room table with Owen and Beru.

“Where the kriff have you been?” 

Ben turned sharply at the sound of Cody’s tired voice, guilt overcoming him as he realized why Cody was in his current sleep-deprived state. 

“Oh, goodness, I didn’t think, did I?”

“You tell me. I hope you at least had a good reason?”

“Certainly. I went to Anchorhead to buy a birthday cake.”

Cody stared, dumbfounded, then turned and left without another word. Beru and Owen were doing a fine job of expressing their disapproval in his stead. 

“You went to Anchorhead, on foot, at night, alone?” Owen already knew the answer, but he didn’t believe it.

“We have a kitchen. If you’d only told us sooner, we could have baked something here just fine,” Beru seamlessly finished Owen’s thought.

“It was meant to be a surprise,” Ben countered. “It wouldn’t have been much of a surprise had Luke woken to the smell of baking, now would it?”

“Did that surprise include not telling us today is his birthday?” Owen was utterly unimpressed. Cody liked him already.

“Nope, he forgot,” Boil eagerly threw Ben under the speeder.

“I forgot, too,” Luke casually informed the group. 

“Well, we didn’t. Here, Idi’jil and I made this for you.” Sen gifted Luke the little ship, and was promptly dragged off to play with it.

“Perhaps it was the will of the Force that I forgot, so that it could be the best surprise,” Ben mused.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Mey stated bluntly, noticing the way Cody’s eye twitched in irritation. 

Nobody needed angry Cody today, she decided, and hauled him off to the guest room for a much needed nap. He would thank her later.

—-

Cody re-awakened in the early evening, when the temperature hovered precariously between scorching and freezing. He was still angry, but couldn’t remember why.

“Oh, good! You woke up!” Luke had been waiting to eat the cake until Cody could join them.

Cody softened at the promise of cake and celebration and followed Luke right back to Ben. He remembered why he’d been angry. Like a Jedi, he shoved those feelings aside for Luke’s sake, but Ben was going to get it once they were alone. Ben apparently sensed his intentions and accepted his eventual fate as if it was a challenge.

Cody’s ire cooled like the desert when he learned what the _vode_ had been up to while he was asleep. Magic and Verd had dutifully replaced the air filters, the _Jate’kara_ was freshly inspected, scrubbed, and refueled, and they had plans to reach Utapau via Ryloth. At least there were some people he could count on. Mey acknowledged his gratitude with a nod. 

Luke went to bed happy, four years old and ready to take on the galaxy. He seemed to accept that the _vode_ would be leaving soon, because they had important things to do. Cody found Ben, alone in the desert at night again, though much closer to the ship this time.

“You’re angry with me.”

“I was. Actually, yes I still am.”

“Holding on to your anger only invites darkness into your life,” Ben warned.

“Don’t lecture me.” Cody did not expect the way Ben flinched back at his words, as if burned.

“Sorry. I’m not holding onto anger, you just reminded me why I was angry in the first place. You said my thoughts and feelings matter, so listen when I say to never do that again. You…you’ve hurt my trust in you. I need to know that we’re on the same page or _this_ isn’t going to work.”

“Then please accept my sincere apologies.”

Those were just words. Ben would have to prove it.

“We’re leaving in the morning, for Ryloth and then Utapau. There are three _vode_ on Utapau with what might be brain injuries, and I was told that Force-healing could aid in their recovery if that’s the case. If you think you could help them, I’d very much appreciate it. Are you coming with us or not?” 

Ben gazed out across the desert meditatively, eyes coming to rest on Luke’s new home. 

“I’m with you.”


	30. Ryloth, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cody has some attachment issues and panic attacks

The jump from Tatooine to Ryloth was less than 3000 parsecs and on a major hyperlane, which had Cody debating whether or not it would be worth going to sleep for a bit before they arrived. Relativistically speaking, there were only 5, maybe 6 hours left of the trip. On the one hand, time was short. On the other, Cody was tired. He found himself staring blankly at Mey, who had so authoritatively decided when he should sleep before. She had been right, too. Maybe she knew some kind of secret on how much he was supposed to sleep.

“What?” Mey grunted at Cody from where she lounged in her seat by the card table.

The card table that was in fact Cody’s desk; placed in his cabin because he wanted to do actual work on it. The _vode_ had reclaimed it for their sabacc games just to spite him, and most of the people who frequented Cody’s cabin didn’t even sleep there. Not that Cody slept much either. 

“What the kriff was that, earlier?” Cody finally answered.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Before, when you made me take a nap. I used to be able to stay up for days at a time with no problem. What happened?”

“Welcome to being old. Also, I would argue that you did in fact have problems when you didn’t sleep. Remember how everyone would avoid you? There was a reason for that.” Mey absolutely refused to sugarcoat anything, ever. Magic, Ukid and Butterfly cackled in agreement.

“Oh.” Cody was slightly hurt, but arguing with them would take effort. More than anything, he wanted to fall asleep in the safety of Mey’s thick arms.

“No. I’m not cuddling you, I’m busy,” Mey swatted Cody away as he attempted to crawl into the seat beside her. “Go ask Boil.”

Boil was also busy, talking to Sen about the hyperspace route they’d take to Utapau that he apparently felt very strongly about. A merchant’s route, connecting the Gaulus and Kathol sectors without venturing anywhere near Denon or Eraidu. To Cody, it sounded too good to be true, but he’d agreed that going back the way they’d come was not an option. Right now, though, Cody was tired and he didn’t want to sleep alone. Maybe Ben would stay with him.

Ben agreed instantly, and yet Cody felt a bit bitter that his _vode_ had abandoned him just because he had a partner now. The others had at least moved their game out of Cody’s cabin when they realized he was actually going to sleep. The only one who didn’t leave was Cas, but he belonged there. It was a good nap.

A good nap, cut short by the warning chime that it was nearly time to land. Cody and Ben groggily moved to the passenger seats to avoid the sickening feeling of the ship slamming back into realspace. Ryloth was a beautiful planet, with a largely untouched surface of gold streaked through with deep green forests and oceans. Not quite as beautiful was the blockade of Imperial star destroyers in orbit.

“ _Fierfek_ ,” Sen exclaimed, working with Nau’ur to quickly shut down all main systems before they were detected. 

“We have to go,” Verd warned.

“No. I need to get down there,” Boil had already suited up.

“What?” said everyone else in the cockpit.

“Numa might be down there, I promised Waxer-”

“Did you seriously take us this way just to see Numa? You could have just said so. Is the hyperlane even real?” Verd nearly shouted, likely alerting the others that something was off.

“Ok, maybe I did, but the merchant’s route is real and it’s our safest bet. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I knew the Empire was here, though.” 

Boil cursed himself internally for his lack of foresight. They’d known since Denon that Mace Windu’s people had betrayed their Jedi, and the clone occupation on Ryloth was a division of none other than the 91st recon corps. Neyo and his men had been absorbed into the Empire. It wouldn’t make strategic sense for them to abandon Ryloth.

“What’s going on in there?” Cody pounded on the door.

Everyone was on guard. Of course, Sen realized, they’d notice something was amiss from the moment the power shut off. How had that slipped his mind?

Nau’ur, at least, seemed to be on top of things, quickly explaining to the rest of the crew that the Empire was blockading the planet.

“I don’t think we’ve been detected, but it’s only a matter of time. We should wipe the flight logs in case we’re captured so they won’t trace us back to Tatooine,” she reasoned. “I suggest we jump to another system now and continue from there.”

“What if the Empire knows about the merchant’s route?” Verd cautioned.

“Those are Imperial-class star destroyers, their primary hyperdrives are class 2.0. If they know about the route, we can still outrun them,” Sen assured. 

“Boil? What do you think?”

Boil was not there. The crew scrambled to find him on orders from Nau’ur, Sen, and Verd.

“What’s going on? He has to be on the ship somewhere, and we need to jump now.” Cody wasn’t fully awake yet, but this was definitely not standard procedure.

“He’s not,” Sen grimly revealed that the docking port for the _Emuur_ was no longer occupied.

Nobody had expected Cody, of all people, to react to Boil taking an unsanctioned mission with hysterics. It took Mey, Verd, Cas, and Ukid holding him down as well as some kind of Jedi trickery from Ben to get him calm enough to listen. 

Cody didn’t care. They were probably just saying things like, “he made his choice, we need to go.” Not Boil. They never left a man behind. Not his oldest surviving friend. Cody broke free and pressed himself against the wall separating him from the docking port, as if he could pull Boil and _Emuur_ back to safety. He couldn’t do it, he wasn’t a Jedi. But Ben was. 

“Ben, bring him back,” Cody ordered.

“I cannot,” Ben raised both hands in placation.

“Why not?” Cody screamed, “You can do anything, you just don’t care enough!”

“No,” Ben was quick to defend himself. “I cannot pull him out of the atmosphere because he has already initiated the landing cycle. It would only endanger him further.”

“He…he broke the blockade?”

Apparently Boil had done it. The blockade was holding position, but Boil’s tracking signal placed him on the planet’s surface, his vitals elevated but stable. _Emuur_ was just that fast. Sen fell in love with the ship all over again.

Cody could breathe and think again, but the thinking part just made him angry. Boil had done this of his own accord, without telling him first. Hadn’t he lost enough brothers already? 

“What the _fekking_ kriff was he thinking?” Cody spat at no one in particular. 

“I think he’s gone to find Numa,” Sen revealed.

“What do we do now?” Verd thought out loud.

“I say we vote,” Nau’ur took charge where Verd and Sen flailed. “We either stay and risk capture, or we leave Boil and go.”

“What do we do, Ben?” Cody was crying again.

“Patience.”

“That doesn’t _fekking_ help!”

“Come here.”

Cody obeyed.

“I want to connect to your minds, so that you may all know what I sense out there, but you must trust me.” Ben placed his hands on either side of Cody’s face and brought their foreheads together. “Join hands, all of you.” 

Cody succumbed to Ben’s guidance immediately. What he found surprised him, and then his surprise echoed back from his _vode_. There was no immediate danger, and Boil was alive, determined, and triumphant.

“They don’t know we’re here?” Onoff ventured.

“Or they don’t care,” Ukid pushed through their bond.

“How did you do that?”

“Whoa.”

“Are you doing this, Ben?”

“Shoulda tried this sooner.”

Laughter. Smugness. Unity. Calm.

“As you can see, we are not currently threatened. Were I in command, I would stay and await further developments, but it is, of course, up to you.” Ben spoke aloud, and the bond dissolved.

All the _vode_ nodded affirmatively. They prepared for the worst, and stayed.

—-

Boil found the city of Nabat abandoned. It would have worried him if he didn’t know what lay beneath the ground. Numa was crafty. If the Empire had come here, Numa wouldn’t have submitted quietly. She would have escaped, that is, if she still lived in Nabat when the Empire took over. In any case, the tunnels were the best place to start. 

_Emuur_ was small enough that Boil was able to maneuver it into one of the empty buildings, out of sight of any aerial patrols. He entered the tunnels with less grace than he had six years ago. This time, at least, he was confident that he knew his way around. Someone definitely lived down here, but with the gutkurrs and heatstorms on the surface, that was practically a given.

Boil was running over what he would say if he found a twi’lek who did not speak basic and nearly walked into a stormtrooper patrol. Numa was definitely not that way. Boil backtracked, taking another path deeper into the tunnels as his helmet’s HUD kept track of his position. It also showed six life signs directly ahead. Could be stormtroopers, though they usually travelled in groups of five or nine. Boil stopped and listened, and heard ryl. 

“The Empire is coming,” he whispered, pointing behind him. 

The six twi’leks bared their teeth, and Boil had no time to react before two of them jumped on him. They were lanky and strong, but their fists landed harmlessly against his armor.

“ _Fi’sehan_,” Boil gasped, “ _Do ohk kocceille_.”

____

____

His attackers relented. 

“ _Birjala_,” he tried again, pointing in the direction he’d come, then motioning as if he were shooting a blaster. 

“ _Jinqua ohk dan_?” one of Boil’s captors hissed through pointed teeth, lekku gesturing where he couldn’t see. 

“ _Do ohk v’ora Sesk’vati_ Boil,” he motioned to his armor as if his arms were very long lekku. “ _Ootay vashna Numa_?” 

“ _Vashna Numa or qu v’ira goh_?” 

Boil didn’t know her family name. He removed his helmet, pointing to the stylized painting of her face, and held a hand at her approximate height the last time he’d seen her. 

“ _Ash favna ohk circaa tenii v’ora chee, loo dakish’ee waran_,” Boil described Numa as best he could with what little ryl he knew. 

He and the others could all hear the stormtroopers coming closer. The group ran, and Boil followed. He would have gotten lost without them. The tunnels must have run for kilometers. 

“ _Ootay_?” Boil asked again, short of breath. 

“ _Cazne. Maralir zala_ basic.” 

Suddenly, they were above ground again, only to dive back into the mountains. The people here were armed, and many looked at Boil with distaste. He followed the group, hoping they’d vouch for him, and was tackled to the ground by something small, blue, and screaming. He couldn’t breathe. Bony arms held him in a chokehold, and more screaming was coming from all around. Struggling for air, he pulled his attacker’s lekku. He didn’t know what else to do. 

Horrified gasps came from all around him, but it gave him enough time to break free and finally catch his breath. When his head stopped spinning, he recognized his attacker and removed his helmet. 

“ _Numa? Eti aan san,_ Boil.” 

Numa stared at her hands, horrified. 

“I thought… you were stormtrooper. I would have killed you,” she said in a low, heavily accented voice. 

“I’m proud,” Boil croaked. 

She was tall, almost as high as his shoulder, and still as skinny as a twig. She traced Boil’s mustache with a finger, lower lip and lekku quivering. 

“ _Nerra_?” she asked in a tiny voice. 

“He’s gone,” Boil sighed. 

Numa let her tears fall, gingerly picking up Boil’s helmet and turning it over until she noticed the little drawing of herself as a young child. 

“Waxer’s idea, that was,” Boil was still hoarse. 

“Why are you here?” 

“I’m not with the Empire. My siblings and I are free. I came to find you. Waxer made me promise that I’d look out for you… if I made it through the war and he didn’t,” Boil drew ragged breaths between each clipped sentence. 

Numa was as fast and slippery as ever, hugging Boil in a flash and twisting out of his hold just as quickly when she decided she’d had enough. 

“I show you something,” she tugged on his arm. 

Many eyes and lekku twitches followed the pair into an armory, where a good deal of white plastoid was painted with 212th gold. 

“We never forget you,” Numa explained, pointing again to the helmet under his arm. 

“Numa, who is this?” spoke a vaguely familiar orange-skinned man. 

“This is Boil, my friend from when the droids came.” 

“Cham Syndulla,” the man introduced himself. Of course. This was the General who spoke basic. 

“ARF trooper Boil, Ghost Company. I was present during the Liberation of Ryloth with the 212th, under Commander Cody,” Boil said proudly. 

“Ah, Commander Cody, I liked that one.” 

“I’ll tell him, sir,” Boil smiled. 

“He is still alive?” 

“Can’t keep a good clone down,” Boil quoted something Scorch liked to say in response to any minor inconvenience. 

“Aye,” Cham laughed, “There aren’t enough good clones these days. How did you escape the Empire?” 

“Long story, sir.” 

“In any case, we could benefit from your expertise, if you are willing.” 

“Show me what you’re working with?” 

—- 

“Boil, do you copy?” Verd was growing more and more frustrated with each frequency they tried. 

The Empire was, of course, restricting communications. Cody would not be overcome, however. He knew every high-level security frequency used by the Republic and likely the Empire, and was going through them sequentially. One of them would reach Boil. 

While skimming through Imperial transmissions, they had at least found some useful information. For example, the fact that all transports to or from Kal’Shebbol travelled via the major space lanes, through Denon and Eraidu. If the Empire knew about the merchant’s route, they weren’t using it. 

“Boil, if you’re out there, you are on dish duty forever for pulling this stunt,” Verd said in a mockery of Admiral Yularen’s core accent. 

Static. 

“Just answer the comm, _vod_ ,” Verd whimpered, wondering why he and Cody were the only ones doing any work. 

Verd wished someone else was here with them. Cody could be scary when he was focused. When faced with a challenge, he shed all his tenderness and humor until nothing was left but razor-sharp intellect and shouted orders. He at least had the awareness to tone it down slightly for Verd’s sake: his orders were delivered in a soft voice instead. 

“That’s the last of them. Start over, but turn up the signal intensity and narrow the range to within 100 kilometers of Nabat.” 

They’d been at this for hours, almost long enough for fatigue to make Verd forget his caution. 

“Wait. We’ll risk detection if we boost the power,” Verd’s addled brain cranked out at the last moment. 

“I’ll do it myself,” Cody muscled into Verd’s space, resolute. 

“No!” 

Cody would have attacked Verd, had he not heard the slightest variance in the comm static. The pattern of static blips repeated in _dadita_. 

“It’s Boil.” Cody jumped back to his station, instantly recognizing the signal. It could have been anything, but Cody had taught Boil this trick himself. 

“Go. I have found my place,” Boil's message broadcasted to the universe. 


	31. Outer Rim, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cody has to work through some attachment and self-blame issues and is straight up not having a good time

Cody was not taking recent events well at all. The crew of the _Jate’kara_ hadn’t been able to respond to Boil without revealing their location, and had jumped away as soon as Boil gave them the order. Mey watched Cody go from sullen, to violent, to isolated. This was exactly what she’d meant before when she told him there was a reason troopers avoided him, but right now, avoidance was probably the last thing he needed.

Cody locked himself in his cabin, not even allowing Cas and Ben access to their own bunks. True, there were plenty of other currently unoccupied places to sleep, but Cody pushing away those closest to him would not stand. Cody had five standard days to mope, the clones collectively decided. Ben spent those days meditating with his back to the door, swearing that he could watch over Cody like this. Ben insisted on giving him time, but he would not allow Cody to endanger himself. 

Boil’s so-called hyperlane was not a hyperlane at all, but a series of at least 300 micro-jumps spanning roughly 7500 parsecs. No wonder the Empire didn’t use the route, this trip was going to take months. At least Sen was living his dream of being an astrogation pioneer. 

Without _Emuur_ available for backup fuel reserves, the extra fuel had to be stored on deck. The nine clones and Ben cleared out the aft cabin to make room for the fuel canisters, which Sen bought up by the dozen at any backwater port or space station where he could get a decent price. It was time for Cody to relinquish the five extra bunks in his cabin. 

“Cody?” Ben politely knocked on the sealed door. 

He could have just cut through it with his lightsaber, but for some reason he insisted on allowing Cody as much privacy as he could. It had, however, been five standard days into a trip that would last months. They were all stuck on this ship together, and there would be no privileges granted exclusively to Cody. When no answer came, Sen cut the power to the doors, and Mey forced them open with her bare hands. 

“C’mon, Cody, don’t you want something to eat other than nutrient pastes?” Butterfly pleaded through the gap between the doors as his _vode_ worked together to widen it.

Cody really did want something other than nutrient paste. After the war, he’d sworn off of them forever, but there wasn’t much he could do in his current situation. 

“I’m coming in,” Cas warned. Cody barely acknowledged him.

Once inside, Cas opened the door fully, but the others stayed just outside. Cody sat in Boil’s bunk, surrounded by multiple data pads and notes made on flimsi that Cas recognized as having come from Boil’s sketchbook. Cody’s empty nutrient paste tubes were neatly piled in one corner. Trust Cody to be meticulously organized even when wallowing in his own depression.

“Hey. Ben and I need to move back in, and so does at least one other. Aft cabin’s full. Sen’s offered to stay in the cockpit, but I don’t think he deserves that. We’re giving you first choice.” Cas was mindful to be as considerate as possible, given the logistical constraints they all had to work with.

Cody just nodded, indicating Mey and Sen as his choices. Mey enveloped Cody in a suffocating bear-hug. The others would rearrange themselves to accommodate. Cody insisted Boil’s bunk be left open, and moved whatever he’d been doing to the open bunk to let the others have the desk for their card games. Magic jokingly suggested they call themselves the party cabin and the party pooper cabin, a categorization that Mey resented. Divided though they were, Cody’s cabin was nearly always full. 

“We missed you, _vod_.”

They’d always been stronger together. 

—-

“What do you have there?” Cas asked Cody, pointing to the mess on Boil’s bunk.

“I don’t know. It’s just…every piece of him that I could find.”

“You tore apart his sketchbook.”

“I was looking for some indication of why he’d do this,” Cody stuttered.

“Cody, this isn’t ok. These are his personal items, you have no right-”

“I know,” Cody bellowed, shocking Cas. “I thought, he’s in danger, if there was anything in there that I could use to help him…but there’s nothing.”

“Have you considered that this isn’t about you?” Sen spoke up.

“What?” Cody snapped.

“Remember when I got arrested on Utapau?” Sen drawled.

“Don’t change the subject,” Cody quipped, even as the memories flooded back unbidden. It had been one of Cody’s most shameful moments.

“I’m not,” Sen hopped down from his bunk to look Cody in the eye. “You’re acting just like you did back then. You’re ashamed, and you blame yourself. Let me tell you, what I did back then had nothing to do with you. I doubt Boil’s actions are the result of anything you did, either.”

“Then why?”

“He saw a chance to make a difference and took it,” Cas thought it was obvious. “Look, I get where you’re coming from, I was the same way for a long time after I lost my squad. I think it’s a natural reaction to loss. But there was nothing I could have done. Blaming myself got me nowhere, and it was self-destructive. I don’t want to watch you go down that path, especially not when all of us are here to support you. Besides, Boil’s not dead.”

“Wise words,” Ben chimed in, having apparently been listening the whole time.“I know this sounds like a lecture, but I urge you to take it as advice. You must let Boil live his own life. You cannot control him. Your dedication to protecting your _vode_ is honorable, but he has stepped out of that protection knowingly and intentionally as a fully capable adult, and you must let him go.”

“You’re right, I know you’re right, but it’s just so- frustrating!” Cody hated how Ben’s description of his recent behavior sounded just like the Kaminoans.

Ben sighed knowingly. “Thank you for your honesty.” It was a far more promising reaction than he’d ever gotten out of Anakin. “You are not alone in this. Never forget that.”

“Alright,” Cody curled up, suddenly feeling very small.

“Clone pile?” Mey initiated, though warily.

“Please.”

Trash was eliminated from the cabin with extreme prejudice, and mattresses were swiftly pulled down from the bunks and arranged on the floor for maximum coverage. Sen was the first to flop down in the nest, thus starting the pile.

“Why do people subject themselves to beds, anyway? This is far superior,” Sen rolled over and snuggled into the blankets and pillows.

“C’mere, bro,” Sen waved Cody over, already drowsy and content.

“Thank you,” Cody mumbled as Mey scooped him up and joined the pile.

“Guess you got what you wanted,” Mey whispered gruffly as she spooned Cody from behind. “No more complaining.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Cody said into the sheets, eyes pleading for Ben and Cas to lay down as well. They had appropriated their mattresses, after all.

Soon, everyone was settled in.

“Go to sleep, _kih’vod_,” Mey patted Cody’s head.

“Hey.”

“ _Ori’vod’ika_?” Sen suggested.

“No.”

“Stop complaining, Cody.”

“Mmh. Fine.” Apparently, he’d been exhausted. He was out cold in seconds.

—-

Breathe, Cody reminded himself when he felt his anger rise. His _vode_ were not his enemies. Not even Boil. He took the long trip one day at a time, in his bunk or at the comms system in the cockpit. It was an improvement. 

Sen generally preferred to daydream alone while spacetime streaked past the isolated little ship, but Cody wasn’t much of a bother. He seemed to have made a hobby of bouncing signals off the hyperspace beacons within range, just to see what data he could get back. Talking to himself, in the vast and lonely expanse.

“What’re you thinking about?” Sen asked, a little bored, a little mesmerized.

“Who’s funding these beacons?” Cody answered with another question. “Keeping beacons tethered in hyperspace is massively expensive. Ebenn told me about how the holonet has slowed down because so many beacons have been left to deteriorate. We’re in the far outer rim, who’s out here that has enough money and cares enough that the beacons are still operational?”

“Maybe the hutts?”

“Maybe.” Better the hutts than the Empire.

“Does staring at hyperspace ever bother you?” Cody changed the subject.

“Not exactly, I like to take it as a challenge to stare right at it and not go crazy.”

“You’re already crazy.”

“Fight me.”

“Nah. I’d beat you, and I need you to pilot.”

“Fight me when we get to Utapau, then.”

“Maybe. What’s our next stop?”

“Castilon. Water world, lots of fuel depots. Out of the way. Hopefully, we’ll just be another ship passing through. Not like the Empire has to go all the way out there for fuel.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.”

—-

Castilon was relatively uneventful, just as Sen had hoped. The water world reminded him of Kamino without all the tricky atmospheric conditions. The vast expanse of ocean made for relatively safe racing courses, and the population aboard the supertankers was as diverse as any spacer’s haven, even out here. Just because the stars in the outer rim weren’t crammed together as tightly as in the core didn’t mean that it was devoid of life. Sen was fairly convinced that life would take root and spread literally anywhere in the galaxy, given the chance.

Cody was able to take the break from hyperspace as an opportunity to check up on those still on Manda. Sarad and his team had begun the process of bioengineering their virus, taking its ability to cause disease and giving it the necessary instructions for slowing their aging that it would carry to every one of the clones’ cells. Given the widespread aversion to needles amongst the clones in general, he’d even thought to make inhalation one method of entry. Sarad’s current challenge was to ensure that accidental exposure by non-clones wouldn’t have any adverse effects.

Cody also heard through Turbo that the Empire was increasing their presence in the neighboring sector. A new planetary shield had gone up around Scarif, raising concerns that they might be about to fortify their occupations on Rishi and Kamino in retaliation for the ongoing clone revolts. He’d tried to warn the guys on Kamino, to no avail. 

These few drops of information were nowhere near enough to quench Cody’s deadly thirst for knowledge, but soon it was back to the ship for another long stretch of hyperspace. 

“Remind me to never come this way again,” Cody complained when even dejarik against Ben got boring.

“Good news is, now that we’ve charted the route, it’ll go much faster next time!” Nau’ur was being far too enthusiastic.

“No. No next time.”

“Stop complaining, Cody,” Mey repeated. It had become something of a tactless in-joke amongst the crew. 

“Yeah, stop complaining. We’re making history here. We can pretend we’re ancient hyperspace scouts, risking our skins to probe the depths!” Sen piled his own enthusiasm on top of Nau’ur’s.

“I’ve made enough history, thank you very much.”

Cody was well and truly tired of the kind of excitement he had been engineered for. He just wanted to deliver health and longevity to his _vode_ , and then do…something. Maybe Ben would be by his side, he wasn’t sure yet. He wanted to explore the galaxy, find Rex, learn how to properly wield a lightsaber, free every clone, wookiee, and twi’lek from Imperial servitude, and maybe experience fatherhood. Unfortunately, all of those dreams were likely to involve more excitement.

“What’s wrong, Cody?” Verd asked, having picked up on Cody’s distress.

“I just realized I’m never gonna be able to retire.”

—-

Somewhere between Skynara and Svivren, Cody finally voiced his desire to learn how a Jedi used his lightsaber. Ben agreed, neither reluctantly nor enthusiastically, but as if he felt a sense of duty to train Cody. Either way, it was by far the most exciting thing to happen on the entire journey. 

The starboard lounge had been cleared out, and most of the _vode_ were crowded into the three adjacent cabins to spectate from a safe distance. It didn’t take long for Cody to convince Ben of his aptitude for close-quarters combat with training blades. Cody was ready, and Ben demonstrated how to lower the blade’s output power so that a glancing strike would not cause injury.

“Can it still deflect blaster bolts at this strength?” 

“Training bolts, yes. For standard blasters, the bolt won’t be deflected but absorbed, which runs the risk of overloading the internal circuits.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to learn to deflect blaster bolts?”

“If that’s what you want, I think you could manage. You may not be able to sense bolts coming, but I know you are highly observant and have fast reflexes. Why don’t you show me what skills you have first?”

Cody ran through the training sequence he’d developed, which combined his practiced style of fluid full-body attacks with using the blade to cover his blind spots.

“Fascinating,” Ben observed, “You use the blade as though it were a shield.”

“That’s what lightsabers were to us, on the battlefield.”

“That makes sense.” 

Ben circled Cody, who remained in a sturdy ready position, never letting his guard down.

“I think you have a great foundation. The first lesson of lightsaber combat is to keep moving, which you do, quite beautifully. The Force flows between you and your opponent, and so it must flow through you if it is to guide you. Your instincts and training serve you well.

“The first form younglings learn is Shii-Cho, which focuses on redirection and disarming. I’ll walk you through the basic strikes and parries.”

Cody was quick to pick up on the velocities, similar to the repetitive training drills they’d all been subjected to on Kamino. 

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Again.” Ben’s counting became like a chant, accompanied by the hum of the moving blade.

When Ben’s blade joined Cody’s, the partnered nature of the exercises became apparent. Like a paired dance, they moved together, each step and strike planned but no less riveting. The _vode_ watched as time slipped away, and Ben and Cody completed the sequence over and over and over and over.

“With practice, these movements become instinct. The key to a real duel is to be able to anticipate and counter every one of your opponent’s moves. Younglings practice this by engaging in solo duels with an envisioned opponent as well as sparring with one another. You’ve done well, but we should take a break before we completely deplete the power cells.”

It had been hours.

“How often does that happen? I’ve never had to recharge this, besides, I don’t know how.”

“It depends on the saber. The one you hold, I designed for maximum durability in combat, such that it could stand up to daily use for extended campaigns. My current saber is my last resort, with far less energy capacity,” Ben explained. “The charging port is here.” 

It was non-standard, but simple enough that Cody now saw it could be configured to draw power from most sources of electricity, especially if one had a droid.

“Right. Thank you, Ben.”

Ben bowed deeply, with one hand wrapped around a closed fist. Cody imitated him. 

“Get some rest, Cody.”

Cody slept, and dreamt of training velocities.


	32. Utapau, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alcohol use, moms being embarrassing, discussions of clone life expectancy and brain injury, Ben continues to avoid his problems

68 standard days after leaving Ryloth, the _Jate’kara_ finally arrived on Utapau. Cody hadn’t thought much of the dusty green world the last time he’d come in for a landing, but this time he could not have been more relieved. Inhospitable as the surface was, it wasn’t all that bad to look at. It was a nice color, a lighter green than the forests of Kashyyyk, and the high winds whipped the sparse clouds into distinct spirals around the globe. It would have made a good motif to paint on some armor. 

Cody remembered with sudden delight that he could paint on much more than just armor now. Ben must have picked up on his jolt of excitement. He stopped staring sullenly out the viewport and turned to Cody with a little smile.

“What?” 

“Oh, I was just thinking about how all of us almost died here,” Ben confessed with his usual lilting sarcasm.

“Ah. Well, I was thinking about how beautiful the planet looks from up here, I hadn’t noticed last time. Also, how I could paint it on armor, or on anything else I want. Maybe I’ll paint it on a wall. Also, we’re going to see my _vode_ , and my moms, and all of my _ba’ade_ , including one I haven’t met yet; he was born right after we left,” Cody listed all the things that excited him with comical seriousness.

He then counted on his fingers, realizing it had been almost a full standard year since they’d left Utapau. It was almost Prime day. 

“Oh, and some of them probably still think you left them for dead.”

“Do they at least know I’m coming?”

“I told them, but they seemed to think it was a prank.”

“You? Pulling pranks?”

“That’s what I said.” Cody winked mischievously, which was neither convincing nor reassuring.

Sen brought the ship down flawlessly, having practiced flying in the turbulent atmosphere for hours on end before they’d left. As soon as the landing ramp extended, the eleven people on board were swarmed with hugs, cheers, laughter, and the kind of casually violent affection between clones that Ben had always tried to avoid. Someone was whacking Cody on the back, berating him for taking so long to return as both laughed heartily. Ben recognized a few: Wooley’s distinctive head of curls and black tattoos along his jaw; Roller and who he assumed was Dev, inseparable as ever; Sketch, Chopper, and what had to be the rest of their platoon surrounded by a gaggle of excited kids. Ben found that he didn’t need to dodge any arm punches or hip checks. He was practically invisible to the group. 

The adults efficiently corralled everyone into multiple speeders, and they made for the housing sector that the clones and their families had completely overrun. Ben overheard that even Barlex had come out of his exile in the caves to welcome his _vode_ back, despite his hatred of all things Mandalorian and the inevitably Mandalorian welcome they’d all receive. 

The party was loud, full of food and drinks and people, but Ben was silent. He only watched and listened as the _vode_ he’d come to know were dragged in every direction to answer questions, join games, and meet family members. Everyone seemed particularly excited about a baby named Parjai, who had pointed between multiple clones and said, “dada.” So far, Ben had counted at least 30 kids, ages 0-13 standard. Ben wondered if the apparent age cutoff was because 13 was considered the age of maturity for humans on Mandalore, or if it was because the youngest of the clones were 13 themselves. 

The clones on Manda joined via holocomm. Rambunctious celebration broke out over Sarad’s successes and the introduction of various clones from outside the 212th who had become part of the family. With the confirmation from Manda that Cody was no prankster and the hooded stranger was in fact General Kenobi, those who had been ignoring Ben all night began casting wary glances his way. 

“What do you think?” 

Ben jumped. He hadn’t even noticed Cas' approach. 

“It’s rather overwhelming,” Ben admitted. 

“Yeah. I haven’t experienced anything like this since my first deployment.” 

“Where was that?” 

“Battle of Krant.” It had been a massive victory for the Republic, back when the war still seemed to make sense. 

“Worthy cause for celebration,” Ben affirmed. 

“Yeah. It’s bittersweet. Reminds me of my batchers. I’m the only one left.” 

“I know the feeling.” 

The sun had set, and Cas and Ben watched as the parents among the group extracted their kids and went home. That was when the bonfires and booze came out. Though the crowd had thinned a bit, there was no sign of Cody. 

“Have you seen Cody?” Ben asked as Cas returned with a beer. 

“Cody? Pretty sure he left hours ago.” Cas took a long drink and sighed. 

“Typical. This never was his kind of thing. I’d like to talk to him, if you don’t mind.” 

“Go ahead. I’ll be fine.” Lonely, but Cas was used to lonely. 

Ben followed his instincts to Cody, feeling like he was sneaking around Pau City searching for Grievous again. Cody was in a mostly empty room, hands and clothes covered in paint as he considered the wall in front of him. He’d made several swirling white patterns on a light green background, and a few representations of golden-brown eyes. 

“Hey, Ben.” 

“Hello.” Ben seemed to float to Cody’s side before he sat down smoothly, somehow avoiding every paint splatter on the floor. “Enjoying yourself?” 

“Yeah. I forgot how relaxing this is.” 

Cody had forgone any traditional painting tools, instead diving straight into the paint buckets with his hands. His arms were now beautifully streaked up to his elbows with greens, whites, oranges, and browns. 

“I hope those aren’t toxic,” Ben ruined the mood. 

“It’s not like I’m eating it.” Cody laid his body against the wall, leaving a streak as wide as his arm span in 212th gold. “Besides, I’m pretty sure this stuff is normally used as body paint.” 

“Fascinating.” 

“Why are you here?” 

“I had wanted to ask you a few things.” 

Cody was tired of questions. 

“What is it?” 

“Are there any name changes among your _vode_ that I should be aware of?” Ben had always been pretty good about remembering all their names. 

“Oh. Yeah, you knew Ruusaan as CT-307. Sketch is still Sketch but uses they/them.” Cody was silent as he ran through the list of survivors. 

“That was Dev with Roller, correct?” 

“Yeah. She still goes by Dev. Mirshko usually goes by Mir, but you already knew that. I think that’s it.” 

“Which children belong to who?” 

“They don’t belong to anyone, Ben.” 

“Alright, who among your _vode_ are parents and what are each of their children’s names?” 

This would take a while. Cody took a deep breath. 

“Ok. Ruusaan is single, and has bothan triplets: Rain, Mihine, and Fey. Omen is married to Niira, and their five kids are Rohan, Sanri, Jubin, Zaid, and Phan. Sanri and Jubin are utai and the rest are human or near-human. Reed, Cale, and Threepwood basically co-parent an entire orphanage, but those kids come and go. The only ones I recognized were Vercopa, Iki, Yalzin, Ophi, Halro, and Tomoe. Reed and his partner Jo’sua have officially adopted Kamil and Tabi, the two weequay; and Reed’s also adopted Jo’sua’s kids from their previous marriage, Minshi and Torana. Mak is married to Prana, and their kid is Parjai. That’s it, as far as I’m aware.” Once he’d finished, Cody had forgotten what he’d been doing before. 

“Impressive.” 

“Well, I have like a million brothers. I’ve had years of practice remembering names. Any more questions?” Cody remembered what he’d been doing when he noticed his left hand was green. 

“You mentioned Force-healing?” 

“When I was on Mandalore, I described the symptoms three of my brothers have been experiencing since their chips were removed. Someone told me in confidence that she thought my description sounded like a brain injury, and that a Jedi who lives there was able to heal a commando with a brain injury using the Force. I haven’t been here for their treatment, but they’re getting the best this planet has to offer and don’t seem to be getting better. Might be worth taking a look.” 

“I see. Who is affected?” 

“Odd Ball, Jundi, and Rin.” 

Ben looked nervous. 

“I’m not a healer, Cody. Anakin was always better at this kind of thing than I.” 

“I understand. Just, will you see whether or not you can give the doctors some kind of insight?” 

“I will.” 

“Thank you. Goodnight, Ben.” 

—- 

The next morning, Ben met Cody’s parents. Vo and Kiilu were diminutive beings who struck Ben as being rather tactile in their communication, even as they chattered away in their native tongue. The utai language had a percussive quality to it, a rhythm that matched their rapid heartbeats. Though Ben couldn’t understand exactly what they were saying, it was apparently embarrassing to Cody. 

“Do I want to know what they’re saying?” 

“Ugh. You’ll probably hear it from someone eventually, I don’t know why they don’t just say it in basic,” Cody directed the last part at his mothers, “They’re basically saying how proud they are that I finally brought someone home, and they’re surprised I’m into the ‘bad boy’ type.” 

“Bad boy?” Ben scoffed in amusement, his core accent coming through strongly. 

“Guess we didn’t exactly describe you at your best.” 

“Cody told us that you are reckless, vague, neglectful, prejudiced, and presumptuous,” Kiilu explained calmly. Her basic was as rhythmic as her utai, only spoken more slowly. 

“It’s all true,” Cody grumbled. Ben didn’t argue. 

“So, tell us, what is good about him?” 

“He’s one of my oldest friends who isn’t a _vod_ , and we make a good team. We made it through a lot together, and I trust him with my life. He’s…selfless, wise, dedicated, and true to his values,” Cody listed what he thought were the flip sides of all the negative qualities he’d once ascribed to Ben. 

“This is acceptable,” Vo determined. “Are you happy?” 

Cody made a noncommittal grunt. 

“I’m not unhappy? I have a lot I still need to do, though.” 

Vo and Kiilu reverted to their fast-paced semi-private conversation, which had Cody sighing. 

“Who says I need to settle down? I’m almost 17, or 40, I guess, either way I’m not that old. I have plenty of goals and aspirations, and it shouldn’t matter whether or not I have a _riduur_.” Cody sounded like he’d had this conversation before. 

“We only want you to experience your life to the fullest.” 

“I know. But have you considered that maybe I don't need or want romance in my life? Besides, I have time, _buir_ ,” Cody said softly. It was a sensitive topic. Until now, they’d all assumed that it would fall to Vo and Kiilu to inevitably bury their children. 

Vo retracted her eyestalks, not wanting to contradict Cody but still begging to understand. 

“Let’s get to the hospital. I have a surprise for everyone.” 

_—-_

Cody casually presented the most important scientific breakthrough of the clones’ lives to the local medics, and let his more scientifically-oriented _vode_ explain their excitement to their parents. He left the hooting and hollering behind to see the brothers for whom the hospital had become home. 

Odd Ball turned even more sickly pale at the sight of his former general, and Cody silently beat himself up for not anticipating his brother's shock. 

“General Kenobi?” Odd Ball sat a bit straighter. 

“Yes. Be at ease, I no longer outrank any of you. And please, call me Ben.” 

“You’re looking better than when I saw you on hologram,” Cody cautiously broke the tension. 

“Ugh. Feeling better, too. It was so sudden, I guess the medics sort of assumed it was an immediate side effect of the surgery that would go away on its own, so back then, we were recovering from surgery and experiencing all this with hardly any treatment.” Odd Ball certainly hadn’t lost his ability to talk one’s ear off. 

“I uh, I brought Ben here because he might be able to find something the doctors missed if he examines you with the Force. That is, if you’re willing. Also, we’ve brought back gene therapy that will slow our aging to standard human rates,” Cody really couldn’t explain it much better than that. 

“Um.” 

“Where are Jundi and Rin?” 

“Physical therapy. They’ll be back...” Odd Ball looked around for a chrono, but never finished his thought. 

“Do you have any sort of diagnosis?” 

“Not officially.” 

“Cody suggested to me that your symptoms may be indicative of a brain injury,” Ben offered. 

“Yeah, that’s what some of the doctors think. Apparently our brains are pretty different from those of the average human.” 

"What do you mean?" 

“We were literally designed for war. Every part of our psychology and physiology is altered from the human baseline to make us efficient and resilient in combat. Even our brains. I don’t just mean the chips. We process pain, fatigue, and trauma differently; our brains reward us for selfless loyalty and sacrifice. Ask the doctors, they have holos. They said our brains look more like a togruta’s than a human’s. Togrutas are pack hunters, but they also have natural predators, and they’ve evolved to value the survival of the group over the survival of the individual. Maybe, if it’s a brain injury, they can’t find it because it doesn’t look like anything they expect to find in a human.” Odd Ball looked slightly off-balance, but seemed to be compensating well enough as he put all of his thoughts into words. 

“Have they compared your brain scans with those of healthy clones?” Cody asked.

“Yeah.” 

“Level 5?” 

“Level 3. Doc says we’re not recovered enough for level 5.” 

“Hm.” 

“Would you two care to meditate with me?” Ben asked. 

“Sir?” 

“Like Cody said, I may be able to find something through the Force that the doctors missed.” 

“Er…alright.” 

“Position yourself however you are most comfortable. Close your eyes, and focus on your breathing. I will reach out to you through the Force, you will know when.” 

Odd Ball and Cody did exactly as instructed, but the connection to Ben never came. Cody opened his eyes. Ben was somewhere far away, looking like he’d been caught playing when he was supposed to be doing his chores. 

“Uh, Ben?” 

“Huh! Yes!” 

“We can do this some other time if you’re distracted?” 

Ben silently argued with himself, muttering unintelligibly before he agreed that it would be best if they had his full focus. 

“I think… I just need to re-center myself. I’ll be in the visitor’s room.” 

Cody didn’t miss the way Ben mouthed the same words he’d been repeating these past few weeks, every time he stopped making sense. 

_Qui-Gon._


	33. Outer Rim, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

Jango Fett had been dead for almost eight years, but today, millions of beings across the galaxy celebrated his birthday. 

Back on Kamino, it had been something of a tradition amongst clones to honor their progenitor by attempting to impersonate him. After his death, the oldest of the _vode_ kept his memory alive by continuing to re-enact their favorite stories involving Prime. Even now, with everyone old enough to actually remember Jango already deployed or dead, the legends of Prime continued to circulate in hushed voices.

The Empire didn’t allow birthday celebrations for any of the stormtroopers, least of all clones. That only made the clones better at hiding. No one ever mentioned the significance of the date, but everyone knew. The being responsible for their existence had come into the galaxy 51 standard years ago, and the clones celebrated with silent, defiant pride.

This year’s secret performances were particularly good. Hidden away in the barracks after hours with the surveillance disabled, seven former commandos who claimed to have been trained by Jango himself lent their expertise to the actors. 

Jango had been one who appreciated cleverness, as evidenced by the sly way he’d shielded Fixer, Jaing, and likely many others from the wrath of the overseers whenever he caught them sneaking around the facilities. Darman and Niner remembered Jango as a decent singer, one who had personally taught songs and war chants to the first 100 ARCs. He had also been something of an artist, having personally designed the phase-I trooper armor. Although troopers were denied self-expression, many had inherited Jango’s creative traits in some capacity. Knowing that they shared a desire to make lasting marks on the galaxy with their progenitor had the younger clones attacking their theatrical performances with renewed vigor. They hoped Jango would approve.

Fixer, Scorch, Darman, Niner, Slick, Trace, and Climber were a mystery to all. No one was entirely sure where they’d come from, only that they were seemingly as accomplished as they claimed. While they offered help to those in training, they were not trainers. Nor did they seem to be intelligence personnel, although they were deceptively brilliant. While they claimed they were not assassins, rumor had it that they could make you disappear. Those were the only jobs veterans on Kamino had, according to the younger clones. 

Ever since they’d showed up, they’d been standing up for cadets, inspiring small acts of rebellion, and leading by example when it came to defying orders without getting caught. Nat-borns had a name for beings that filled this role: _dini’la ba’vodue_. Today, the cadets would make their crazy uncles proud.

—-

On Manda, celebrations were similarly covert. 35 former soldiers of the Republic exchanged secretive nods, but the day seemed like any other until the sun set. Under cover of darkness, Ebenn made sure to deliver his best party services in spite of the Empire’s recent transgressions. Officially, he didn’t need a reason to throw a party. Unofficially, his own children were grown and he missed throwing them extravagant birthday parties, so he'd take every chance he got to spoil others.

Sarad’s team had fittingly chosen this day to unveil the aging treatment. It was the best gift any of them could have asked for.

“How old are you today, Sar’ika?” Arya asked for the sixth time from where she was drunkenly draped over Sarad’s shoulder.

“17, _mesh’la_.”

“What’s that in clone years?”

“35? 40? Something like that.”

“Are you gonna stay 35 for a whole year this time?”

“That I am,” he kissed the backs of her hands, “Thanks for your help.”

“Just doing my part to preserve your youthful gorgeousness.”

Later that night, Sarad ended up injecting himself with his first treatment. He didn’t trust drunk Arya with needles. Despite his training, he had to spend the better half of an hour working up the courage to poke himself, but it was worth it.

—-

“Happy birthday!!”

Boil jolted awake at the shrill noise, only to find a very excited Numa with several of her young friends. 

“I…how did you know?” Boil rubbed his eyes.

Numa looked confused for a second, so her friend replied for her.

“The guys who stayed here celebrated every year,” explained the older girl in remarkably fluent basic.

“Right, well, thank you.” Boil hadn’t expected to have anyone to celebrate with today. His _vode_ weren’t here, but this was a nice surprise.

“Get up! Presents!” Numa exclaimed, dragging him to stand up with her tiny wiry body.

The adults who weren’t Cham actually acknowledged him today. Another pleasant surprise. They said nothing when he proved himself a competent strategist, or when he shared valuable information on clone wars era tactics that had ended up predicting the Empire’s moves, or when he jumped into battle right alongside them. Today, he did nothing but symbolically complete a planetary rotation around an unremarkable and faraway star. Maybe it was a cultural thing about age. Whatever it was, he’d take it.

Numa, Hera, Alask, Dinek, and Karawn led Boil into a workshop buried within the caves. The shelves carved into the rocky walls were all lined with bins of meticulously organized droid parts, most of which appeared to have been scavenged from dismantled B1s. A battered C1 series astromech stood deactivated on a tarp, apparently under maintenance.

“We’ve been working on this for you,” Alask had clearly been practicing his basic.

Karawn presented what appeared at first to be a beaded leather necklace. Boil recognized the intricately tied knots that probably held some significance beyond his understanding. Woven along the length of the cord were colored stone beads, some translucent and shaped like humanoid skulls.

“For Ghost company,” Hera added with a big smile.

Boil attempted to put it on, and found that it rested at his ears rather than around his neck.

“Um… am I doing this right?”

Numa adjusted the piece so that it lay across his forehead, pointing out the two metal accents now positioned at either side of his head.

“Put these on your ears.”

Boil obliged them, and they stood around with eager faces like they were waiting for something to happen.

“ _Zala'qa nawara_!” Dinek whispered.

“ _Say what tongue_ ,” the tiny devices in Boil’s ears spoke. A hilariously literal translation. 

Clearly the device couldn’t pick up on the nonverbal portion of the language like his HUD could, but it would help when unfamiliar words arose.

“It’s a work in progress,” Hera admitted. “I took the language database from a T-1.”

“Thank you,” Boil laughed.

Numa’s next excited string of syllables translated as “ _you now naked face with clan_!”

Boil and Hera both laughed at that.

“Hopefully I can sync it with your helmet’s dictionary.”

“I kinda like it how it is. It’s funny.” Boil wiped tears from his eyes.

“Sounds like a plan for cultural misunderstandings,” Hera reasoned.

“ _Why eye water_?” the device translated for Karawn.

“ _Rackus_,” Boil explained. “I sort of assumed I’d be alone today.”

“ _Sur nerra’ma’pra’tari_,” Numa added.

“Yes.”

“ _Korjin ka’jaala’dan. Freykaa’vahs aay_.” 

_They judge you lovingly from the stars._

Boil knew what Dinek meant, but the way it was translated had him laughing through his tears again. He still missed his _vode_ , but he couldn’t stay sad like this. 

—-

At Kyrimorut, Jango Fett’s birthday was a day of remembrance. Many of the inhabitants had known Jango personally, and the six Null ARCs as well as all the nat-borns each had their own birthdays. That didn’t stop Kad’ika from making paper crowns for each of his _ba’vodue_ , whether they be commandos, regs, or completely unrelated to Jango. This time, he had help from five older kids who had swiftly claimed him as their baby brother upon their arrival.

Uli was simultaneously fascinated by the fact that Cody shared his “birthday” with so many of his siblings and furious that he’d neglected to tell her when it was. She would have sent him a message, or a drawing, or something. Now she’d have to wait a whole year. To make up for Cody’s unforgivable mistake, Echo let Uli shower him in praise and affection in Cody’s stead. Uli decided she liked Echo. He looked a lot like Cody, but he was nicer. He also had a metal hand, which was super cool.

Echo eventually convinced Uli that it wasn’t too late to send Cody some kind of message, making something up about how it was still yesterday in his timezone. Truthfully, he didn’t even know what planet Cody was on. Apparently not Manda, though someone there had kindly offered to forward the message to Cody. 

—-

With how many clones lived on the 15th level of Pau city, Prime day was practically a regional holiday. The sheer amount of sweets needed for such a celebration was far beyond the capacity of Brink’s successful but small bakery, and other local merchants were quick to supplement the flow of sugar. 

It was a much bigger deal for the kids than the adults, which reminded Cody of how Boba, who had his own birthday, would always attempt to co-opt the much more exciting Prime day celebrations. Jango used to tell Boba that he should be glad that he didn’t have to share his birthday. Everyone ironically tended to forget about Jango on Prime day. 

By the time Cody received Uli’s message, he’d had enough sugar to last the rest of his life, accelerated aging or no. He offered copious amounts of leftover sticky syrup candies, cakes, and pastries to every one of his _ba’ade_ who stopped by, much to their delight.

Back during the war, Cody had voraciously consumed every bit of sugar he could find, which wasn’t much, but he and every trooper he knew would have jumped at the chance he had now. Was this another part of being old? Apparently he no longer had the metabolism or stamina of a growing teenager. Ben assured him it was normal, but part of Cody was disappointed on behalf of his younger self that he'd lost the desire and the fortitude needed to eat himself into a sugar-induced coma. 

Who knew what other joys of life he’d suddenly lose interest in at age 50? He needed time to discover those joys in the first place! Ben pointed out that his body would only continue to get slower and weaker as he aged, but now he could choose to age like a normal human. That was the push he needed to inoculate himself with the first experimental dose of the virus.

The change wasn’t as immediate or as jarring as Atin had made it seem. Cody and the others on Utapau had the foresight and resources to run hormone panels before and during the treatment. There was indeed a hormone spike, along with some instances of headaches, nausea, mood swings, and body aches, but all of that soon passed and then everyone found their grocery bills nearly cut in half along with their caloric needs. 

Ben never did find any specific answers for what was ailing Jundi, Odd Ball, and Rin, but his presence seemed to be therapeutic in itself. Either that, or the aging treatment was improving their health in unexpected ways. The four of them would meditate together, resulting in intense visions of them doing things like they’d done when they were healthy. Ben called it a good sign, that their minds already knew what they wanted. Their bodies, too, were manifestations of the Force; and through the Force, they possessed infinite, innate knowledge on how to be alive. Their bodies still knew how, even if they'd been impeded or misdirected from that ultimate goal. All a Force-healer could do was give a body the encouragement or energy it needed to begin healing itself. They could only hope Ben had given them the push they needed.

Quite suddenly, Cody realized that he’d completed every mission in his life up to this point. The war was over, his General lost and found again, his _vode_ living their various lives, his kids safe from the Empire for now. The future was unplanned for the first time. Cody remembered what Lark had said about him completing his epic quest before he deemed himself worthy of becoming Luke’s _buir_. It didn’t seem like that was what the galaxy had in store for him, but Lark had been right about one thing. Apparently, Cody was worthy now. 

“Where will you go from here?” Cody was asking Ben as much as he was asking himself.

“Back to Tatooine. I…My training isn’t complete yet.”

“Alright.” Cody had hoped Ben would sprinkle some hidden advice into his answer.

“What troubles you?”

“Do I… Do we stay together?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know.” Cody remembered Lark’s advice. Try it.

“Then you are under no obligation to stay,” Ben answered, “Although I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to having company, and someone to watch my back. I must warn you, however, there are things I must do, places I must go, where you cannot follow.”

“Jedi business?”

“Indeed.” Ben stared off into the distant stars, like he could see exactly where in the galaxy he needed to be. Cody wished he could have that kind of clarity.

“Tell me, Cody, what else do you want? There must be some things you’re certain you want.”

Cody wasn’t sure about that at all. There were plenty of things he thought he wanted, many of them made dangerous or near-impossible because of the existence of the Empire. 

“Do you fear the Empire?” Ben asked.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that.” Cody sighed. “I fear what they’ve done to my brothers. What they could have done to me. That there aren’t enough people willing to stand up to them.”

“You are not alone,” Ben said cryptically. “One day, a new hope will rise, and we must be ready to seize that opportunity when it presents itself.”

“So, what, just survive until the Force decides it’s time for some destiny to happen?”

“That’s one way to think of it,” Ben smiled. “Answer my question, Cody. This is your life. What do you want?”

Cody wanted his _vode_ free. He wanted justice for a war that made no sense. He wanted to turn back the clock and shoot Palpatine at point-blank range before he made everything go to _haran_. He wanted to laugh with Waxer, Boil, Wolffe, Rex, and Kix again.

“Rex,” he said, his voice small. He wanted his little brother.

“That can be arranged.”

Cody had been under the impression that Rex was out of contact, but Ben instructed him to find Bail Organa, then Ahsoka Tano, then Rex. 

“Wait, does Luke know where Rex is? He told me Ahsoka said he couldn’t tell.”

“Luke knows only what I told you.”

“Alright.” Cody had made up his mind. Rex was going to make good on his promise of all 16 drinks he still owed.

“Come with me, and I can get you to Alderaan.”


	34. Outer Rim, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains spoilers for TCW S7 E7 and E8, "Shattered" and "Victory and Death."

Cody didn’t really want to go to Alderaan without his _vode_ , but apparently everyone else had better things to do, such as avoid the Deep Core like their lives depended on it.

None of them had been that far core-ward since before the Republic invasion of Utapau. If only he’d known back then how much was about to change. Even Ben had been blindsided by the Chancellor’s duplicity. If only he had listened to Rex, but then again, what difference would it have made? 

Cody didn’t really want to go to Alderaan, but when his parents expressed their concern in a way that implied he was better off safe on Utapau than ever seeing Rex again, he knew he had to go through with it. Even his wonderful _vode_ called him _jare’la di’kut_, but he knew that was just their way of saying he was smart, capable, and hellbent on succeeding. Cody was a decorated war hero and a gods damned adult who had survived everything the galaxy had thrown at him so far, and besides, he was doing this for Rex. He’d been through worse for Rex.

That, and he had Ben. 

Ben had proclaimed the current date his and Cody’s anniversary, though Cody had no idea when he’d started counting. The unmarked freighter they’d take to Tatooine was supposedly an anniversary present. A thoughtful gift from a loving husband, the ship would be used to fulfill Cody’s dream of smuggling relief supplies to Imperial-subjugated worlds in the Outer Rim, certainly not for illicit activities of any other nature. It was an acceptable cover story. More creative than the classic tale of spice running, but no less likely to get them arrested if caught. 

Sen downloaded the flight data from the _Jate’kara_ into the navicomputer of the new ship, insisting it would drastically cut the travel time on the route they’d affectionately dubbed ‘Boil’s “Hyperlane”.’ Cody demanded proof that he wouldn’t be stuck in hyperspace for two months again, and so Sen had taken the new freighter up for a test flight and come back with a full report. 

“I can only do math in the sky,” Sen explained like it was a normal thing to say.

Satisfied that the trip would take 27 standard days instead of 68, Cody and Ben disembarked. 

Ben hated the rickety freighter. It reminded him too much of the _Twilight_. Besides, flying was for droids. While he’d insisted on “making this look good” by buying the worst ship available, he still reserved the right to name the YT-209 ‘ _Jaro_ ,’ for death wish.

Once in hyperspace, the ship wasn’t so bad. It made weird noises, but it tunneled through hyperspace smoothly enough. The recycled air on the ship was noticeably more stale than what was considered normal, but the oxygen and carbon dioxide levels were acceptable. It just needed some modifications. If only General Skywalker was here.

Eventually, the occasional clanking of the ship faded from awareness, and the silence of space travel yearned to be filled with conversation. Ben still wouldn’t talk about Anakin, so Cody didn’t push. Instead, he asked about Rex.

“How did Rex get to Alderaan?”

“A starship, I imagine.”

Cody fixed Ben with a stern but amused glare.

“He went to Mandalore after Yerbana, right?” 

“Right.”

Technically, Mandalore had been neutral, which meant Cody had had no command over any troopers who’d happened to be there when order 66 came down. Rex’s fate had been beyond his control.

“How did he survive?”

“He survived because of you. You, and Fives, and Ahsoka. He was on his way to Coruscant with Maul in custody when he got your message.

“Initially, he didn’t think much of it. Even an army-wide communications blackout wouldn’t affect his mission, since ships in hyperspace don’t send many transmissions anyway. But when Ahsoka felt the deaths of Jedi all over the galaxy, she went to Rex and told him something terrible had happened. He figured it out. They decided they couldn’t return to Coruscant, despite their orders, and were working out how to explain the change of plan to the other 7400 clones on the ship when Maul escaped his cell and destroyed the hyperdrive.

“They reverted, systems damaged beyond repair, and were immediately caught in the gravitational field of a moon. Maul left a trail of carnage that wasn’t at all hard to track, and Ahsoka nearly had him, but when she realized they were going to crash, she took command of the bridge herself. She managed to crash land on the surface, saving most of the men on board, but Maul escaped.”

“Do you think Maul is behind these Jedi hunters?” Cody cut in.

“I can’t be sure. My impression was that his rage was directed at me, not the Jedi as a whole. According to Ahsoka, he orchestrated the entire Mandalorian Civil War to draw me out.”

“Hm.” Pursuit of singular revenge was certainly one way to live one’s life.

“After the crash, the only working transport was a single Y-wing bomber. Rex insisted on staying on the surface with the others while Ahsoka went for help. She found Commander Wolffe, who had been searching for Jedi survivors, and they managed to relocate every clone stuck on that moon. All of them were officially listed as dead or missing and presumed dead in the Mandalorian interim government’s official report. They even buried the remains of a clone on Mandalore, in a grave marked ‘Rex,’ in case the Empire came looking for him.”

Cody’s face was twisted in a thoughtful grimace. Rex was a smart man. He’d covered his tracks well enough that even someone like Cody, who knew everything about him, hadn’t been able to find him. Wolffe might still be out there, too. 

“Do you know their name?” 

“Whose name?”

“The name of the clone buried in Rex’s grave.” 

“No, I don’t. You’d best ask Rex, I think.”

Cody nodded with a hum. If it had been him, he would have gladly been buried in a grave marked ‘Rex’ if it meant protecting his brother. That trooper had probably felt similarly about their commanders. They still deserved to be remembered, for that if nothing else. It was the best way a Mandalorian could hope to die: literally shielding the living as they marched on ahead. 

“Thanks for telling me, Ben. Thanks for doing... all of this for me.”

“Anytime, Cody.”

—-

27 standard days was plenty of time for Cody to pre-record everything he wanted to tell Boil. He’d set up an elaborate contraption on the comms dashboard. The motions were pre-programmed, but it ultimately recreated the manual blips of static interference that Boil had used to communicate with him before. He played it back, over and over, and made Ben repeat the message to him from the other room where he sat deciphering the garbled signal on his short-range comm. Only when Cody was satisfied did he finally agree to more lightsaber practice.

Ben was rather relieved to be doing something as mundane as lightsaber velocities. Just like when Anakin had been a padawan, saber training was proving to be one of the least eventful things that happened around Cody. 

“What’s so funny?” Cody asked from the other side of their crossed blades, the deep focus on his face thrown into sharp blue contrast.

“I was just remembering a time when I despised velocities.” With how easily Ben was deflecting Cody’s blade while lost in thought, it was clear he could do these exercises in his sleep with no problem.

“When was that?” Cody blocked high, then swept at Ben’s ankles with a practiced turn of the wrist.

“Oh, about 30 years ago. Believe it or not, I was once as impatient and un-studious as Anakin.”

“ _Nu draar_.” Cody hesitated for just a moment in his disbelief, which was more than long enough for Ben to force him back.

“Master Qui-Gon used to say that if I didn’t learn appreciation and patience, I would be cursed with a padawan even more unappreciative and impatient.” Ben smiled fondly. “I suppose he was right, in a way.”

“Qui-Gon?” Cody managed between rapid parries.

“Yes, my old master.”

“I thought you were trained by Yoda?”

“Every Jedi was. As a padawan, I was apprenticed directly to Qui-Gon, just as Anakin was apprenticed to me until he was knighted.”

“Oh.” Cody still had much to learn about the inner workings of the Jedi Order.

“Qui-Gon was killed by Darth Maul the same year you were born.”

“Oh.” Several things clicked into place with the revelation of that bit of information.

Suddenly, Cody was on his back with a saber at his neck.

“ _Solah_ ,” Cody yielded.

“It’s not like you to let your guard down. Something on your mind?” Ben deactivated his saber and helped Cody up.

“I’ve heard you say the name Qui-Gon before. Always when you’re meditating. I’ve been wondering what it meant.”

Ben went pale.

“I-I won’t say anything if you don’t want to talk about it. We can forget this conversation ever happened.”

“I just never realized I spoke aloud when meditating.”

“Oh, you do. You talk in your sleep sometimes, too. That usually just sounds like weird dream stuff, like ‘control your insolence, Anakin, the Count is concentrating,’ or ‘I like your new legs, they make you look taller,’ or ‘don’t underestimate the high ground, Anakin.”

“Ah.” Ben forced a laugh.

Apparently it wasn’t as funny as Cody thought. He wouldn’t force Ben to reveal his traumas, but he diligently filed that information away.

“Hey, if you ever want to talk about any of this stuff, I’ll listen,” Cody offered the only assurance he could.

“I know.”

—-

When they finally reached Ryloth, Cody wasted no time in sending his transmission. It was long enough that it wouldn’t likely go unnoticed, but would be hard for the Empire to decode since the message buried in static nonsense didn’t repeat.

_Ba’slanar echoylir Rex. Kar’taylir darasuum. K’oyacyi._

With how far they were from Ryloth itself, the message would reach Boil in a matter of hours. The navicomputer completed its calculations, and they made the jump to Tatooine.

—-

Apparently, Ben had plans on Tatooine. Shopping plans, to be more specific. He bought a house in the Jundland wastes, then made his way into Anchorhead to buy what Cody assumed were home goods. Whenever Cody followed him on his outings, he usually ended up carrying most of the things Ben bought. There were some things he recognized, like home appliances, plain cloth, power cells, and protein blocks, interspersed with a random assortment of droid parts, decorative cushions, cold weather gear, and a home brewery kit. He claimed it was to throw authorities off his trail when he bought actual contraband. Cody hadn’t noticed him buying anything illegal, but at some point he had apparently acquired a scanner-jamming cloak and a fake ID for Cody.

“Do they teach you how to do that in Jedi school?” Cody asked sarcastically.

“Yes.”

“Is it any wonder the public opinion at the end of the war was that the Jedi had too much power?”

“I would never have taken advantage of that privilege.”

“Is that not what you’re doing right now?”

“That’s not fair,” Ben looked rather offended.

“Life’s not fair. I’m not questioning your morals, I’m just trying to understand your point of view. I know that you, and most Jedi for that matter, never used your power selfishly. That didn’t stop Dooku, or Pong Krell, or Barriss Offee from doing just that. If the Republic knew that Jedi could go rogue, why allow them so much freedom and power in legal matters?”

Ben paused for a long moment.

“You remember the Citadel on Lola Sayu.”

“Of course.”

“The Republic was absolutely aware that Jedi could go rogue. That prison was created over 500 years ago, specifically engineered to hold Jedi in preparation for that possibility. In all that time, it was never used.

“Until the war, Jedi very rarely went rogue. Before Dooku, only 19 Jedi masters had ever left the Order. Maul was the first Sith seen in millennia. Before the creation of the clone army, the Republic hadn’t had a standing military in 1000 years. That was the foundation of Republic society. There have always been people who disliked the Jedi, but we were known and respected on worlds all over the Republic as guardians of peace and justice.You came into the galaxy at a very pivotal moment, and much has changed since then.”

“I really was created just to plunge the galaxy into turmoil.” The more Cody learned about the war, the more certain he became that that was just the case. 

“Perhaps. But I’d say that you, personally, are doing a terrible job of that.”

“Thanks.” 

\---

Cody didn’t even get to say goodbye to Luke before he was ushered off to Mos Espa, but he made Ben promise to tell him in his stead. According to his new ID and the substantial stash of unmarked credits that lined his pockets, he was a rather wealthy and skilled hunter of Jedi artifacts, someone important enough that whoever was waiting for him on Alderaan would notice if he went missing. He boarded a moderately high-end civilian shuttle in utter bewilderment, with instructions from Ben to trust his instincts and trust the Force.

Cody hadn’t been this terrified in years.


	35. Galactic Core, 7962 C.R.C./15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> separation anxiety, brief body horror (facial transformation, as in TCW S4E15: Deception), discussions of sex and sexuality in biological and cultural contexts

Cody forced himself to keep a low profile, and the other passengers let him. It had only been a handful of times that he’d been on a starship not piloted by family or at least a trusted officer, and the desire to make sure everything was in working order was strong. He hadn’t even seen the captain. What if there was no captain? What if they were just drifting through hyperspace, never to reach Denon? Improbable, he told his anxiety. Passenger transports like this had ferried people across the stars long before he and his kind came into existence and continued to do so now.

He really wished his _vode_ were here.

Apparently, most people with the means to travel were heading the opposite direction. This freighter was unusually vacant, which meant nobody bothered Cody in his cabin. He had the whole thing to himself: multiple cubicles, freshers, kitchenette, and all. It was a blessing and a curse. His identity was kept secret as the loneliness closed in on all sides, as cold and crushing as Kamino’s ocean depths.

Cody broke out of his self-imposed isolation when the silence in his room became suffocating. He wasn’t here to make friends, he just needed to be certain that he wasn’t alone on this ship. Hood up, he gleaned reassurance and familiarity from the tiniest of interactions with other sentients. The other passengers were rather colorful characters, from what he overheard. One apparently had plans to raid the Jedi Temple for its treasures now that it was abandoned. The ones who spoke freely about their intentions seemed either too stupid to have seriously considered how they were going to make it in the core, or too accustomed to self-reliance to care. The rest kept to themselves, like Cody. Even so far from his _vode_ , it was good to know there were others like him.

To lessen the chances that he would be recognized, Cody let his beard grow over the duration of the journey. He didn’t particularly like the look of it, and it itched. He didn’t know how Ben did it. Then, before it came time to land, he injected the hypo that was supposed to temporarily alter his features. The itching was nothing compared to the horribly foreign sensation of his face rearranging itself under his skin, and the persistent sense that his lips covered his teeth wrong. His nose was different, and he was constantly aware of it at the edges of his vision. And this, like growing a beard, was one of the many things Ben did on a regular basis.

Most clones wished to have unique faces at some point in their lives, but this was just about the worst thing ever. Cody hadn’t cried out during the transformation process despite the pain, but he still didn’t feel confident about lying to anyone that he was fine. He just sat there, face in his hands, until his head cleared and he managed to walk shakily to the fresher and look in the mirror. He didn’t look bad, just different. His skin held more lines, his cheeks were fuller, his nose longer. Then, of course, there was his scruffy beard. He really hoped it wouldn’t stay this thin because he did not have the patience to make it look good.

The transport shuddered out of hyperspace and began its final approach, the turbulence of a gravity-bound atmosphere a subtly disorienting change after days of artificial gravity. Cody was sweating profusely under his cloak, strapped into his landing chair and suddenly too hot. Maybe it was a side effect of the transformation. He relaxed as best he could and breathed deep, trying to cool off from where he was trapped under the fabric that insulated as well as it shielded.

“Are you alright?” someone asked.

“Space sick,” Cody lied, and was promptly handed a bucket by one of the service droids.

At least the deflection of his breath off the bottom and sides of the bucket provided some semblance of a breeze.

He’d faked space sickness the last time he was on Denon. Maybe it wasn’t space sickness at all, but Denon sickness. He huffed a chuckle into the bucket, quickly disguising it as a dry retch.

Cody was the last one off the ship, stumbling into the bright sunlight of the busy spaceport. He needed water, now. Rushing toward a decorative water feature, Cody didn’t hesitate to splash the cool, chemically scented liquid on his head, sighing in relief. He only stopped when he heard hard footfalls approaching at an intimidatingly steady pace.

Cody missed his brothers, but he didn’t want to meet one like this. He sidestepped as the stormtrooper moved to kick him where he crouched, standing with a graceful spin and scowling at the trooper’s visor.

“Identification.”

Cody haughtily flourished his ID chip, never breaking contact with where he knew the trooper’s eyes to be beneath their helmet.

“Move along.”

He didn’t need to miss his connecting flight. He did as he was told, the water that dripped down his face disguising hot tears of frustration. He didn’t have time to reflect on the casual violence the trooper had almost inflicted on him, or how lifeless their voice had sounded.

By the time he reached the entrance to his departure gate, he was once again drenched in sweat. This reaction was not what he’d expected, but at least the facial transformation had worked. He passed through the security gates without issue, though he had been worried that he would be stopped for running a high temperature. Maybe the feverish sensation was all in his head, or maybe the cloak was doing its job of showing the scanners exactly what they wanted to see. Pulling his hood up as he left the trooper-dense security checkpoint, he made for his next transport.

This transport was far more crowded than the last. Alderaan was a common destination for refugees, including those fleeing the other Core worlds. There would be no avoiding other passengers this time. Safely strapped into his assigned seat, Cody made himself small and pretended to be asleep, cloak thrown over his head to block the light.

Once in hyperspace, he moved quietly to his passenger cabin, where he found a tall, furry being desperately trying to corral three younglings. He swiftly avoided two small, careening bodies to hoist his luggage out of their reach, and caught a whiff of Corellian whiskey as they scampered past his legs.

“Don’t touch strangers’ things!” the oldest of the group cried as the kids moved to do just that. They managed to pull one of the younglings away from Cody, but the other slipped through their three-fingered grasp and started to trip. Cody was there in an instant, stopping the child’s fall and turning them to face their guardian.

“Thank you,” they said breathlessly, fixing him with an owlish stare as the children tried to squirm out of their grasp.

Cody only nodded curtly, then sat down on the bunk he’d be occupying for the next few days.

These beings were probably caamasi, judging by their appearances and distinctive smell. Cody didn’t know much about them or their homeworld, but if they were on this ship, they were most likely refugees.

After nearly half an hour of listening to the oldest nag the kids to basically stop acting like kids, Cody spoke up. 

“I don’t mind if they run around the cabin, so long as they stay out of my bunk and don’t hurt themselves.” They clearly had a lot of pent up energy.

“Oh! I-” the kids saw their chance and took it, bursting forth with renewed vigor to chase each other in circles.

“Let them wear themselves out,” Cody said with a smile, pulling off his boots and leaning back in his bunk with his hood over his eyes.

Space was blessedly cold, providing relief while his strange reaction subsided. By the time the crew served third meal, he was glad for his cloak’s insulating capabilities. His reflection in the mirror as he washed his hands revealed that his face was almost back to normal.

Cody opted to eat in his cabin, as did his roommates. What the hell, better only four people see his face than the whole mess hall. Hood down, he finished his meal well before any of the kids even began eating. They were tired and cranky and apparently fighting over flavors of fruit spread, and their guardian looked ready to cry. He wasn’t about to get involved, but then a plastic utensil hurled in frustration came straight for him.

He caught it midair, and moved with a slightly intimidating air to kneel in front of the youngling.

“That’s no way to act in public,” he spoke calmly.

“Sorry,” the kid blurted after prompting from their guardian.

“If I were you, I would use this here to divide the spreads, that way all of you can get the flavors you want,” he waved the utensil and handed it back to the kid.

Their guardian looked mortified, a look Cody returned with understanding.

“Thank you, sir, it won’t happen again…”

“Is that right?” Cody asked the kid.

“I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“I’m Koyin,” the oldest introduced themself suddenly.

“Yos,” Cody replied.

“What brings you to Alderaan?”

“Business.”

“You have a father’s reflexes. You have children, don’t you?”

“Something like that.”

“How many?”

“Six.”

“Oh, your poor wife,” they muttered as if he couldn’t hear.

“Husband, actually,” Cody corrected, Koyin’s comment having completely gone over his head.

“You…are male, correct? Sorry, it’s hard to tell with humans.”

“Yeah. I am. You?”

“I’m female. Where are you from?”

“Manda.” Cody replied on autopilot. This civvie sure was nosy.

“Are there many like you on Manda?”

Cody’s face twisted into an expression of confused shock, which Koyin did not outwardly react to. Could she mean clones?

“Um…I guess?”

“Sorry if that was a rude question, I’ve just never met a homosexual in person before.”

Oh.

“I’m, uh, I’m actually asexual but there are certainly homosexuals on Manda. Is that not common where you’re from?”

“No, it’s not. For my kind, relationships involving sex are for the purposes of having children, and we mate for life. Forgive me if this is too personal, but I thought humans required sex for reproduction?”

“We do, mostly. I meant I’m asexual in the sense that I don’t experience sexual attraction to other beings.”

“So you neither sired nor birthed your children?”

“No, I didn’t. They’re all adopted."

“Oh. That makes a lot more sense. Is that common in your culture as well?”

“My people have a saying. Family is more than blood.” The questions were uncomfortably personal, but Cody could come up with half-truths for hours. It was a welcome distraction from the absence of his _vode_.

“Sorry, I just… I’ve barely talked to anyone in weeks.”

“I understand.” Cody wasn’t usually this talkative. He suspected his own loneliness had driven him to reciprocating this conversation. “Are these your children?” Cody asked after a slow, heavy pause.

“My brother’s. He was killed when the Empire burned our homeworld.” The statement carried a gravity that seemed to ripple through each of the younglings, but all four of them carried a serenity with their grief. It reminded Cody of the Jedi.

“I’m sorry.” Cody didn’t think about how it could have been people with his face who had reduced an entire planet’s surface to ash.

“You’re not just saying that to be nice.” It wasn’t a question.

“The Empire has done terrible things to my family as well.”

“Then we are kindred spirits.”

“Maybe so.” Cody had never felt this level of trust with a stranger before, but he remembered Ben’s advice to trust his instincts.

“Thank you for answering my questions. We’d never traveled off-world before the firestorm. This has all been a terrifyingly unfamiliar ordeal.”

Cody looked Koyin in the eye and nodded slowly.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a nonverbal sign of affirmation commonly used in human and near-human societies,” Cody recited from his flash training on Kamino.

Koyin practiced the motion, and soon the little ones were copying her with enthusiasm. Cody grinned.

“That’s a smile, right? We learned about those, how humans showing their teeth isn’t a threat. Not that your teeth are very threatening.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

—-

Cody taught the caamasi everything he remembered about human mannerisms and Core world culture with a patience to rival Ben Kenobi. The galaxy could be a harsh place for non-humans: something he understood first hand, despite technically being human. He learned that Caamas had been a lush jungle world, and that despite their thick fur, the younglings especially were unaccustomed to the chill of space. He learned that the Caamas firestorm had devastated the arboreal planet shortly after the end of the war, and that these four had been lucky enough to make it out, only to have their lives juggled between refugee ships for years. He learned that Koyin was only 17, the others all 6, born at the same time.

“How old are you?” she asked.

“I’m not exactly sure, but funny coincidence, I actually started counting 17 years ago.” His vode would have been hysterical over that twist of the truth. “I’m about 35 or 40 standard.”

“You must know a great deal about the galaxy.”

“I’ve traveled widely and studied many cultures, yes. It’s not something that can be taught. The best way to prepare yourself is to trust your instincts and keep an open mind.”

“My instincts are telling me that we should stick together. What about yours?”

“That can be arranged, yes,” Cody agreed despite his initial hesitance. It felt like the right choice.

—-

Alderaan was beautiful, with deep blue skies and oceans pierced through with shining mountains. The journey to Aldera Spaceport took them into the mountains, and then to an island in the middle of a lake. The city mirrored the surrounding mountains, both in the way the reflective towers echoed the design of the landscape and in the shape of the city itself. Soon, Cody and the others were disembarking with their luggage, breathing the fresh mountain air.

Koyin’s little nephews shivered in the cold, and Cody covered all three of them with his cloak as they waited in line for processing. He'd agreed to stay with them until they found their resettlement agent. Once that was through, Cody still wasn’t sure how exactly he would make contact with Bail Organa. Could he just walk into the palace? Would he have to wait for months while his request made its way through the confusing maze of bureaucracy?

The people here seemed truly friendly. They were patient and compassionate towards the weary travelers, and worked with an efficiency that came from experience. Most of them were very attractive humans, but Cody also spotted cosians, aqualish, and duros among them.

“He’s close,” Koyin sniffed the air as the little ones made excited chirps.

Cody looked around, and sure enough, another caamasi was approaching them. They conversed in their native tongue, then the newcomer pointed out where the four should go, but did not follow. Cody wished them all the best of luck. Then, the caamasi addressed him.

“Korr Yos?”

“Yes?” Cody spun to face him, instinctively standing at attention even as he realized how ridiculous he probably looked.

“I am Ylenic It’kla, Trustant of the Alderaanian Caamasi Remnant and personal advisor to Viceroy Organa. I was told to expect you. Please, come with me.”


	36. Alderaan, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for the Empire being shitty, sad kids, alcohol use, PTSD, and brief violence

Cody followed the man, preoccupied, wondering how much of this encounter Ben had orchestrated. It had worked out far more smoothly than he could have hoped, but part of him still felt dismissed, like Ben couldn’t trust him with the finer details of his own mission. Strategically, yes, the less he knew about the inner workings of the Alliance, the safer they all were, but he was used to being in the loop. 

Cody was a commander, after all. He’d always made a point of ensuring that his fellow commanding officers knew everything he did. Clones worked so well as cohesive units because they communicated, understood, and cooperated with each other. The Jedi, on the other hand, seemed to expect others to read their intentions and respond accordingly. The clones had adapted as quickly as possible.

“Damn it, Ben, I can’t read your mind when you’re not here,” Cody mumbled to himself.

Cody was not a mind reader, but apparently Ylenic It’kla was. He had a deep, resonant chuckle, and made some remark about how Ben had always been reckless. 

“Who are you?” Cody asked, fairly certain they hadn’t met before, though Ylenic seemed to know Ben. Probably a Jedi. 

“I already told you. That is all you need to know, for now.”

“How did you know who I was?”

“You smell just like him.”

“What?”

“Desert wind.”

Cody wracked his brain for every mission he and Ben had been separated for. Assuming this “desert wind” referred to Ben’s scent, it was likely that they worked together shortly after Ben had visited a desert world, or on a desert world itself. Geonosis, Ord Cestus, Tatooine, Gwori, Florrum, Ryloth, Mandalore, Utapau… 

“Utapau or Tatooine?” Cody asked.

“Hmm. You are a clever one. Utapau, if it makes any difference.”

The end of the war, when Ben had been dragged off for mysterious Jedi business with increasing frequency, leaving the Outer Rim sieges in Cody’s hands.

It was technically the reason he’d had the highest rank of any clone in the GAR.

“Can you tell me about Caamas?” Cody asked, on the way to where he presumed he’d meet Bail Organa.

“We share much in common with the Alderaanians. Ever since we developed space travel millennia ago, we have made our way in the galaxy as historians, peacekeepers, diplomats, and mediators. We are a pacifist society, sympathetic by nature to the plight of others.”

“Like the Zeltrons?” 

“In a way, yes. We possess a strong connection to the Living Force, and are able to share memories with one another. 

“As a Core World, we influenced the formation of the interplanetary democracy that would become the Republic, and the tenets of the order of Force users that would become the Jedi.”

No wonder the refugees on the last ship had reminded Cody of the Jedi.

“Our history is long and enduring, in no small part due to our ability to pass on our _memnii_ to others. We have survived the countless ancient wars of many worlds, so as you can imagine, we did not give up our ways when the Empire came.

“Just over three years ago, our planetary shields were sabotaged and the surface immolated by a fleet of Imperial star destroyers. The skies rained fire, the seas boiled away, and the only survivors were those who were underground or off-world. The Republic Senate says that we have no proof, but I know this, because I have seen the _memnii_ of so many who were there when it happened.” Ylenic retold the horrible story with such solid conviction that there was no need to dispute it.

Cody was speechless.

“It is my duty to find our lost survivors, so that we may rebuild and start anew. We must remember, so that this does not happen again.”

“I believe you.” Cody had seen Kashyyyk, and Ryloth, and knew those worlds were neither the first nor the last to be consumed by the Empire.

“See? You are smart.”

The rest of the ride was spent in relative silence, the leisurely pace meant to encourage riders to enjoy the scenery. Cody only felt sick, a tightness in his chest that consumed his awareness.

“Follow orders,” he thought to himself, imagining that Kenobi or someone who outranked him had ordered him not to freeze. He could do this. He’d done it before.

Cody formally met Bail Organa for the first time in a wide open parlor that gave him the uneasy sense of being exposed. Organa of course knew of the Marshall Commander who, years before, had served in the battle of Christophsis and beyond. Likewise, Cody knew of the senator who had quietly but successfully petitioned for clone personhood. This time, Bail assured that if Ben had sent Cody personally, then they were meeting as friends.

Cody followed Bail into what he now realized was the Royal Palace itself, an interconnected series of tunnels and bridges that melded with the rest of the city. The palace was enormous, but not compartmentalized like the stilt cities of Kamino, nor quite as infinitely terrifying as the vastness of space. With all lines of sight clear, Cody had plenty of warning before he and Bail were overtaken by two racing children, one with dark brown hair and one with hair that was nearly white. Just like Cody and Rex.

“These are my daughters, Leia and Winter,” Bail introduced the two.

Of course. Leia’s resemblance to Padmé Amidala was unmistakable, and yet she stared at Cody with the fierceness of Anakin Skywalker from where she hugged her father’s leg. Winter was more poised, standing as tall as she could. Winter looked at Cody like she was memorizing his every feature. He wondered why Luke had never mentioned her, they seemed rather alike. 

“You look like Rex,” Leia said bluntly after Cody had introduced himself to the girls in turn.

“Luke said the same thing. Rex is my brother.”

Leia lit up at the mention of her own brother’s name. “You’re my best friend, now,” she declared. 

“What brings you to Alderaan?” Bail asked when the children had moved on and he and Cody were once again the only beings walking their current path. He had his own suspicions, but he wanted to hear for himself.

“I haven’t been in contact with Rex since the end of the war,” Cody admitted. Bail raised his eyebrows in slight disbelief. “Ben said you could lead me to him.”

“That I can.” Bail seemed like he had more to say, but didn’t yet know how to say it. 

“We could use your help,” Bail said at last, once he had led Cody to the room he’d be staying in for his visit. “I’ll admit, I had hoped you’d come to join the Rebellion. Please consider the difference you could make.”

“Of course, just tell me what I need to do.” Cody was done ignoring the Empire.

Bail adjusted quickly to Cody’s eagerness. 

“Then I will have my associates procure you a secure channel, so that we may stay in contact. It will be ready by morning, along with instructions for where you’ll be headed next. In the meantime, I hope you’ll join us for dinner.” Bail left a datapad showing the location of the dining hall and other guest amenities, as well as a schedule of events for the palace in general. 

Cody reviewed the datapad in its entirety before debating what to do next. He was tired, but he didn’t want to be alone. He knew from the schedule that both Bail and Ylenic were otherwise occupied. If only his _vode_ were here. He’d even settle for the company of Turbo or Ukid, though he knew that would only exhaust him more. Maybe he could comm them.

Using the datapad as a map, Cody sought out the public long-range transmitter. As he neared the console, he realized it wouldn’t be private enough for his needs. He stood at a loss for a few seconds before considering the secure comm from Jaing.

He didn’t want to bother anybody, but they probably wouldn’t mind, right? It wouldn’t hurt to try. He claimed a soundproof booth and commed Kyrimorut.

“This is a secure channel, who is this?” the voice didn’t belong to a brother.

“This is Cody, are any of the commandos available?” Cody didn’t feel the need to translate his request into “I’m so lonely, I’ll speak to literally any _vod_ right now.”

There was some shuffling and feedback from the other end, but eventually Cody was put through to Jaing himself.

“Please tell me this isn’t an emergency,” Jaing spoke with utter disinterest.

“No, I, um. Everything’s fine. I just wanted to check up on you.”

Jaing, the brilliant conversationalist that he was, said nothing for several long seconds.

“Look, I haven’t spoken to a _vod_ in weeks and this is the only secure channel I have,” Cody explained at last.

“Thought so.” 

“Why’s that, _mir’sheb_?”

“It’s pretty _fekking_ obvious,” Jaing laughed, “I see it all the time.”

Cody didn’t dignify him with an answer.

“Besides, I get what it’s like. I was alone for most of the war, you know, or it was just me and Kom’rk. Made up all these conversations in my head for what I’d say to people in various situations. Now, on the rare occasion that one of those situations actually happens, I have the perfect thing to say, and they all think I’m some genius of scathing wit. Works out nicely.”

That actually got Cody to smile.

“I did that too. Things I wanted to yell at my general about. Kept a journal, even,” Cody admitted. “I take it from your nonchalance that everything is relatively ok on your end?”

“Ok-adjacent. I’ve actually been away, sabotaging Imperial communications in the area to keep them away from base. Turns out the clan heads are a bunch of _aruetiise_ who sold out Krownest and Phindar for ‘protection’.”

Jaing could hear Cody’s nervous swallow from six kiloparsecs away. 

“We’re doing everything we can, and you’d best believe that’s enough to thwart the Empire. Your kiddos are safe with us. Can you trust me on this?” Jaing cut right to the heart of Cody’s worries.

“Yes,” Cody answered. Even if he didn’t know Jaing and the Nulls that well, he knew he could trust Hunter. “Those kids have a bunch of scary _ba’vodue_.”

“Whole army’s worth,” Jaing agreed.

“I’m going to find Rex,” Cody changed the subject. “And then I’m going to join the Rebellion.”

“Mhm.” 

“I’m telling you in case I die.”

“ _‘Lek_.” Jaing knew the drill.

“Tell the others I said hi?” Cody only needed his message to reach Echo, from there Echo would ensure it reached everyone it needed to.

“Yeah, sure. Be careful out there.”

“I will. _Ret’_.”

“Bye, _vod’ika_ ,” Jaing replied, once he was sure Cody wouldn’t have time to correct him before the connection died.

_Osik’uram._

Cody didn’t swear out loud, because he was aware of the small bodies pressed into the shadows of the comms console. It didn’t matter that they probably didn’t know mando’a: Luke was freakishly smart and Cody knew better than to underestimate his sister.

“You can come out now.”

Leia and Winter emerged holding hands.

“Did you call Luke?” Leia asked.

“No. I called one of my brothers.” Cody wanted to rest, but angry little Leia deserved better. “Do you know why you can’t call Luke?”

“Empire.”

“Right. Do you know why they’re trying to find you?”

“Jedi.”

 _Shabla jettise_. At least it seemed Bail was better than Ben at communicating with his kids.

“I’m really sorry that this is the way the galaxy is right now. All I can do is help protect you. Luke is safe, he has Ben and his new family, and Ben seems oddly certain that the Empire will never look for him where he is.”

“Ben is crazy.”

“Yes, but has he ever been wrong?”

Leia pouted in defiance.

“I’ve worked with Ben since before you were born. He was my general, and I was his commander. There were times when I was sure he would get both of us killed, but in the end, he never actually lied to me. He wouldn’t lie now, not about something this important.”

More pouting.

“Do you want me to tell Luke anything when I see him next?”

Leia fidgeted in place.

“You don’t have to tell me right now. I’ll be here until morning.”

“Why would you be able to get a message to Luke when Papa talks to Ben all the time but won’t let us see Luke?” Winter spoke up.

Cody was torn. Nothing got past these kids.

“Because the Empire doesn’t know I exist,” he answered with some hesitation. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he was right. 

“Besides, even if they caught me, they wouldn’t be able to prove who I am.”

Winter analyzed Cody while Leia stood at her side, suddenly quite regal and composed. That was probably her outward defense when she felt the world was falling down around her.

“Luke misses you too, you know.”

Leia nodded with a trembling lip.

“C’mere, _ad’ika_.”

Cody pulled her close and let her recompose herself in the safety of his strong, warm embrace. She didn’t cry. Cody accepted the fact that he had two more foundlings in his care.

“I will take your secrets to the grave if I have to," Cody swore. "As long as there isn’t any sensitive or identifying information, I’ll tell Luke anything you want to say. You don’t even have to tell your papa.”

That seemed to get her attention. 

“Ok,” she said, with the shy beginnings of a wicked grin.

This was a rebel, born and raised.

—-

Cody was being sent to Corellia, with nothing to go on but a set of coordinates and a name: Fulcrum. Once again, he’d have to undergo facial transformation to remain undetected. Bail had been adamant that there was a danger, in between long rants about the same corporations made rich by the Clone War now being bought out by the Empire because of that scandal with the Intergalactic Banking Clan. Cody didn’t claim to understand politics, but this confirmed what he’d suspected since Denon: the Empire had money.

Bail had money, too, and he used it to fight. He sent Cody away with the trappings and travel clearance of a senatorial aide. Hyperspace was a blur of hastily learned etiquette and nerves, and the hyperlag once he reached planetside was almost a relief. 

Corellia, Cody quickly discovered, was a rough place. Somewhere one could disappear if they wanted to, but also a place that required him to watch his back and walk aggressively. When Ahsoka found him, she said she’d recognized him first by his soldier’s stride.

She’d grown. She was taller than him, now, with eyes too old for what he knew her to be: Rex’s little sister. His little sister. She was reticent and cautious, and Cody’s heart ached. 

He wanted to catch up, but she had dictatorships to overthrow. She refused to say anything more than was absolutely necessary, which included advising him not to show his lightsaber around Wolffe.

“How did you know?”

“I can hear the kyber sing,” she explained, and then she launched him back into hyperspace. 

He’d just barely managed to get his hands on a bottle of authentic Corellian whiskey. Rex’s favorite. He cradled the precious cargo close to his body with barely restrained giddiness. 

\---

The last stretch of Cody’s exhausting journey sped him along the Hydian Way, all the way back to Darkknell. He’d been here not long before, though he hadn’t gone dirtside. Had Rex been here then? 

Darkknell orbited three dying suns, and its axial tilt plunged his hemisphere into dim days and long nights. It reminded Cody too much of Umbara. The shadow planet still haunted him, and he hadn’t even been on the front lines for most of it. Rex probably hated it here. Why Darkknell? Ahsoka never explained why, only that rebels operated from the system. 

At least he was in a settlement. The planet was dismal, but the ancient, winding streets teemed with life. His destination was a rather hollow looking home, made of flimsy durasteel and surrounded by many others like it. People lived and worked here, and though he was out in the open, an ambush was unlikely-

Cody was exhausted, and in the middle of navigating unfamiliar territory and reliving old traumas, he was almost too slow to react when Wolffe pulled a blaster on him.

“ _Sha’kajir!_ _Vod_ , it’s Cody.” Cody raised his hands, whiskey held up like a peace offering.

Wolffe didn’t hesitate to ram Cody against the wall.

“What were the last words I spoke to you on Coruscant?” Wolffe growled, his prosthetic eye no doubt cataloguing Cody’s identifying features.

“Trick question. You howled.” They’d both been drunk. Cody was surprised he remembered it at all.

“Not good enough. Answer the question.”

“Look, I don’t know. We were drunk, and honestly, I don’t even remember the last words I spoke to Rex.” Cody was on the verge of panic. Wolffe didn’t mess around.

“Fine. Who were we with that night?”

“Bly, Gree, Appo, and Stone.” All of them were gone now.

“We were…celebrating. Appo had just been promoted. We kept calling him _al’verd’ika_ and he hated it.” The memory nearly winded him. 

Wolffe released him, slowly, hesitantly, his natural eye shining with unshed tears. Cody assumed he looked much the same.

“Come inside. I need a drink.”

Cody couldn’t agree more.

—-

When Rex finally made it home, it was to his long lost brother propping his feet up on his dining room table, with his boots on no less. He was inclined to forgive Cody eventually, once he saw the bottle he’d brought with him.

“Hi, Rex.”

Rex didn’t miss a beat.

“ _Munit ca’nara nu’urcir_, _vod_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's longer than usual but I had to make Rex appear so @elenathehun won't have an aneurism.


	37. Darkknell, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alcohol, PTSD, survivor's guilt, descriptions of past character death, injury, and the aftermath of order 66

Rex was alive, and real, and standing right in front of Cody with an icy, judgmental glare.

“Now get your feet off my table,” Rex ordered.

In one swift motion, Rex snatched away the whiskey and tipped Cody’s chair, forcing him to right himself. 

There was no mistaking the love in Rex’s actions, and yet Cody sensed he was holding back. Cody had almost expected their reunion to be as violent as his meeting with Wolffe, only more jubilant. Cody had so much to tell him, but Rex took Wolffe into another room, all but ignoring Cody for the moment. Cody heard frustrated tones coming from the other side of the door, but he didn’t know who was speaking. Eventually, Rex emerged alone, and poured two glasses like the last four years hadn’t happened.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Rex said dumbly after he’d downed his drink in one go.

“I’m glad you’re here, too.”

Both men sighed deeply at the exact same register, then shared a dorky grin.

“That,” Cody said, pointing to the bottle, “is the 16 drinks you promised that never came through. Which means you owe me.”

“Kriff you. Do I look like I have credits?”

Cody studied his brother’s face intently. Rex looked older than Cody, now. His skin was sun-weathered, implying he’d spent time somewhere significantly brighter than here. Like Ben had said, his hair was all white, except his beard. It didn’t look nearly so bad on Rex as it had on Cody. 

“Kinda, yeah. You look like me, and I have credits,” Cody answered.

Rex snorted, then started idly polishing his empty glass. 

“Is Wolffe ok?” Cody asked as soon as he identified the source of his lingering unease.

“He’s been having a rough time of it lately. Then you show up outta nowhere, I can’t blame him for how he reacted. He at least seems in control of his actions. Knows where he is and who I am and all that.”

“Are you ok?” Cody didn’t miss the way Rex mumbled through vague, short sentences.

“Shaken. I am glad to see you, though. I take it you’ve discovered the Rebellion?”

“Something like that. I, uh, I ran into Ben when he was drunk out of his mind at a bar on Zeltros.”

“See, that’s actually standard recruitment strategy,” Rex joked.

They were teasing each other now. Cody was an expert at that.

“Your beard makes you look old.” 

“Your face makes you look old.”

“We have the same face, _di’kut._ ” Oh, how Cody had missed this. 

If anything was old, it was the joke. It was the kind of mindless teasing between siblings born of the need to laugh, even when everyone you knew was exhausted from growing up too fast.

“Are there any others?” Cody asked, mind now filled with memories of Kamino.

“Oh! Yeah, um, remember captain Gregor? Foxtrot Company? He’s not dead.”

“Seems to be a recurring theme,” Cody acknowledged. “Is he here?”

“He’s working. He’ll be home in a few hours. Actually, might be best to give him a heads up.” Rex pulled his comm from a pocket and composed a message for the _vod_.

“That’s…wow. What about your guys? I found Echo, and Dogma…”

“Dogma’s alive?” Rex reacted with such energy that Cody imagined lightning flashing across his dark eyes.

“He’s alive, _vod_. He’s been through nine hells and he’s not like you remember him, but he’s out there somewhere making a life for himself.” Cody didn’t feel the need to mention Dogma’s newfound place in the Ohnaka gang.

“That’s…that’s good. It’s what he deserves.” Rex hadn’t been able to save him, not like Cody had been able to save Slick. “And Echo? How’s he?”

“Last I heard, he was adopting all my kids.”

“You’re a _buir_?”

“Yeah, long story. Answer my question first. Ben said you and Wolffe relocated all the survivors of the 332nd?”

“Yeah. We did. Most of ‘em settled in Mandalorian space. You remember the shinies? Tye, Fluke, Temm, Stout, and Brii? They all made it.”

“What about Jesse?” Cody only remembered Jesse because his brother, Kix, had told so many entertaining stories about him as they’d waited for medevac on Anaxes.

“He’s on Concord Dawn. Took to nerf herding like a Mon Cala to water.”

“Guess the _Vhett_ genes are strong with him.”

Rex snorted in agreement.

“I’ve been meaning to ask. Who’s the _vod_ buried in your grave?”

“Narvath,” Rex answered plainly, lifting his empty glass as if to drink. “Why?”

“ _Vod_ deserves to be remembered.”

“Yeah. He does.” Rex stared blankly at the bottom of his glass.

“Tell me about him some time. I wanna do right by him when I say his remembrances.” Cody gave Rex a chance to change the subject, but Rex pressed on.

“He was smart as hell. Like, Echo level smart. First thing I noticed was how well he paid attention, not just to superior officers, but to everything. Had a gift for reading people, could do flawless impressions and guess what you were about to say. He liked to freak out the nattie officers, acting like we could all read each other’s minds.

“Maul got him. On the Venator. Tore the ship apart and threw the superheated metal right through him. Looked like a lightsaber wound, which is apparently how I died, so…” Rex didn’t need to finish. 

Cody knew.

“You wanna hear about my _ade_?” Cody offered, squeezing Rex’s forearm before he could drown in the familiarity of self-blame.

“Yes.”

—-

Rex’s laugh was a rare and delightful sound, one that occurred with precious frequency as Cody recounted the tale of how he’d become a Jedi at the behest of a slave girl and promptly tried to adopt her. Wolffe joined them eventually, and though he flinched visibly at the mention of Jedi, Cody could tell he was amused. That was how Gregor found them: laughing, sharing stories and food and drinks, like a proper family.

Cody would never have guessed that the jovial man half covered in burn scars was the same person as the no-nonsense Captain Gregor he remembered. Gregor apparently didn’t remember Cody at all, which was just as well. Cody had technically left him for dead on Sarrish. 

Gregor apparently had no inhibitions. He stripped down to his underwear, to the slight annoyance of everyone else present, and started cooking as he regaled Cody with every single remembered detail of his life since they’d reportedly last seen each other.

“Once I remembered who I was, I figured I should get back to the army somehow, right? Except everyone in my company was dead, and I didn’t know who to contact. I knew who Rex was, ‘cos someone showed me, so I finally find Rex and I’m all ‘awaiting orders sir’ and Rex is like ‘who the kark are you.’ Turns out the war had just ended. Missed out on the entirety of the very thing I was made for, but at least I gained some useful skills in the interim.”

It was true. He was a damn good cook.

Cody had so much to tell them, and yet he had nothing to say. He felt warm, both from the alcohol and from the sense that he was about to boil over with unasked questions. He kept his mouth shut, because Rex was tired. He’d have time. They’d all have time.

It was said that the natives of Darkknell had no circadian rhythm. With how infrequently the suns rose, businesses operated at all hours and people tended to sleep and wake whenever they pleased. Rex was the first to turn in, citing the importance of beauty sleep and blaming Cody’s sudden appearance for aging him a whole local stellar revolution. Cody didn’t care to know how many standard years that was, he just shoved Rex affectionately and bid him a good rest. 

Wolffe clearly needed it as well, but he held out until Gregor assured him he’d keep watch. It stung, but Cody was glad Wolffe had people he trusted.

Soon, Cody lay in his makeshift bed on the floor of the small house, the only sounds being the snoring of his brothers and Gregor’s humming as he washed dishes with the efficiency of a Republic Commando. It was soothing in its familiarity, and yet Cody found that, despite his exhaustion, he could not sleep. Maybe he was still stuck on the last transport ship’s day cycle, or maybe his body was vibrating with the intensity of repressed emotions.

Gregor was observant and kind, and offered Cody a cup of tea with a silent smile. It was like nothing he’d ever tasted: it had a strongly smoky scent, but the flavor was mild, and he found it helped him calm down. 

_Thanks_ , Cody signed, coyly examining the scars that covered Gregor’s bare feet while pretending to stare at the floor. 

“Oh, those aren’t from the explosion,” Gregor explained. “I was cooking naked and I spilled hot oil on my feet. Rex ’n Wolffe were all like, this is why you can’t cook naked! But this is a boots-off household. Clothes wouldn’t have saved me. I’m fine, though, see?” He wiggled his toes. “The Force won’t let me die. It must have a purpose for me,” he said wistfully, wide eyes staring into the beyond.

“Maybe you’re right,” Cody whispered into his tea. 

He’d felt much the same way, especially just after the end of the war. Like he had unfinished business, his status as an outdated piece of field equipment be damned. He’d come to realize over the years that he didn’t need some grand cosmic reason for surviving: as he’d told Lark, he was here, and he lived because he was human and he deserved it. 

“Maybe it’s chance, maybe it’s destiny, I’ve stopped caring. All I know is it’s hard to be the one that survives, but life is what you make of it. I’ll live for myself as much as I’ll live for the brothers who didn’t get that opportunity.”

Gregor nodded sagely.

“You know, I’ve brought an aging treatment that some ARCs developed. Helps regulate our cell cycles so we don’t age as fast or something. You interested?”

“I don’t know.” 

It wasn’t quite rejection, but this was the first time Cody had seen anyone respond to the option with anything less than enthusiasm. Still, it didn’t surprise him. He’d seen many troopers survive improbable odds, only to believe that they shouldn’t have. Gregor had done that at least twice.

“I’ll let you think about it, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Gregor seemed bewildered, like he wasn’t used to others giving him a choice. “So you’ve met others out there? Other clones?”

“Yeah. About 250, all living free.”

“Anybody I would know?”

“Boil, Wooley, and Nerra of Ghost Company; Odd Ball and Sen of Flight Squad 7; Slick and all his guys; Reed, Cale, Threepwood, Ukid, Switch, Crys, Barlex, Sarad, Trapper, Lark, Paak, Peel, Magic, Mey, Eyeball, Nau’ur, Onoff…”

“Yeah, I don’t remember any of them.”

“They’d probably remember you. There are 44 former 212th members I’m in close contact with, on Manda, Ryloth, and Utapau.”

Nothing compared to the 294,912 he’d once commanded. Still, 44 were much easier to keep track of. 

“And you all just…what, defected? And nobody noticed?”

“Buddy, I’m the reason 1/10th of the GAR never received order 66. Technically, we all unknowingly committed high treason and only left the site of our last battle because some of us wanted to get drunk at a different venue.”

“Ah. I knew I liked you.”

Gregor hadn’t been with the army during order 66, but he’d known what had transpired as soon as he found out. It was when he’d first met Rex in person, haggard and grieving and with a fresh incision in his head. He and Wolffe had removed their chips and helped Gregor do the same. The operation had left yet another gap in his memory. In those days, Wolffe would routinely work himself to exhaustion doing search and rescues for Jedi and clones alike, and Rex, being the only other trooper Gregor actually recognized, had reluctantly allowed Gregor to assist however he could. He’d been eager to help, had admired Rex for everything he’d heard about him and everything he was. Rex’s strategy of using a hidden automated message on a little-used helmet frequency was what led Gregor to them. He and Wolffe had the connections and knowledge to run a successful relocation program, and they cared so much that they’d only switched strategies when the Empire took notice. The three of them had scarcely been apart ever since.

“Thanks for talking to me,” Cody’s voice cracked with sleepiness. He’d been craving information, and Gregor had given him just enough to mull over that his mind could finally be quiet.

“You goin’ to sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Cody settled on the floor like the heavy red dust in the streets, and fell into a silent, numbing trance.

—-

It was, predictably, still dark when Cody woke up. It had been several hours, and Gregor had just gone to bed. They always slept in shifts, like they would when camping overnight on a hostile planet. Here, the night didn’t end.

“What a strange planet,” Cody mumbled to himself. Why humans willingly lived here was beyond him.

Wolffe acknowledged Cody with huff, a rather chipper greeting by his standards, and tossed Cody some sort of lightweight circular food item. It was fluffy and seemingly insubstantial, the only recognizable flavor being sugar.

“You live like this?” Cody teased. Truthfully, he would have killed for something like this back when the only other option was GAR rations.

“I like to think I’ve earned it.”

“Yeah, I do too, but last Prime day I discovered I can’t chug sugar anymore.”

“ _Trikar’la_.”

That was the Wolffe he knew.

“I guess it’s a fair trade. Can’t chug sugar but I get to grow old. Did Gregor tell you about the gene therapy I brought?”

“No.” Wolffe’s eyebrows rose in curiosity.

“Is Rex awake? I wanna tell him, too.”

“REX!” Wolffe bellowed through the house, making Cody jump. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout Gregor, he literally sleeps through explosions,” Wolffe added as Rex rocketed into the room.

“What is it?”

“Cody wants to tell you something.”

“Don’t do that!” Rex chided, but made no move to retaliate. Cody had to admire his patience.

Once Rex was seated, Cody produced a thermo-sealed medpack from his luggage. 

“Viral vector gene therapy. The Null ARCs identified and isolated all the genetic factors of our accelerated growth and continued aging and developed this to correct it to standard human rates.”

That was about the full extent of Cody’s understanding, but Rex and Wolffe looked impressed nonetheless. 

“I have eight doses here, and instructions on how to engineer more. It’s pretty experimental but it can give us full lifespans.”

Cody studied his brothers’ reactions through the depths of their identical brown eyes. Wolffe’s held longing, and Rex looked like a man on a mission.

Rex reached over the table and hugged Cody.

“This changes everything, Cody, you have no idea. Now we can really get underway.”

“Ok…” Cody actually did have some idea, but he humored Rex. “What exactly are we doing?”

We. Rex grinned at that.

“Spying on the Empire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gregor burning his feet is based on a true story


	38. Darkknell, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PTSD/panic attacks, unhealthy coping, bros arguing about important stuff

Commander Rex had exactly zero qualms about reminding everyone that Cody no longer outranked him, and thus, he was perfectly justified in not explaining anything he did. Rex often disappeared for hours on end, only to come back and pore over data sets of unknown significance. In all honesty, all this “spying on the Empire” left Cody bored.

At least Gregor and Wolffe were entertaining. Though Rex had opted to hold off until “the mission” was complete, Wolffe and Gregor had started the first rounds of aging treatment. The duo complained like babies at every minor change. 

“I have breast tenderness,” Gregor pouted, ice packs strapped to his chest with a parachute harness.

“OW! I stubbed my toe,” Wolffe blamed his clumsiness on the gene therapy.

Cody grinned wickedly and recorded them, for future blackmailing purposes. He also supplied them with herbal anti-inflammatories and steel toed boots, because he wasn’t a monster.

—-

Wolffe and Gregor were used to Rex’s cryptic words and long absences, and knew many ways to pass the time. Darkknell was dark and depressing, but that made it excellent for stargazing. At this time of the year and so far from the core, one could clearly see the swaths of stars that formed the outlying spiral arms, and even the bright haze of the galactic center behind the dim Knell’char trio, depending on the time of day. Cody could have marveled over the fact that some of the light he was seeing was older than Galactic civilization itself, but decided he didn’t have time for that.

“Is anyone gonna tell me what exactly we’re doing here?” Cody interrupted the tranquility of the nighttime with his impatience.

“Not Rex,” Gregor said nonchalantly, rolling over to face Cody from his spot on the ground where he laid stargazing.

“Fulcrum says there’s a group here sympathetic to the Rebellion. Their instructions were to assess the group's competency and decide if they’re strong enough and organized enough to fold into the larger movement. As for what Rex does all the time? I only hope he knows.” Wolffe explained.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Surviving.” Wolffe’s answer sounded final.

“So you don’t…believe in the cause, or whatever?”

“You said that, not me,” Wolffe grinned at Cody, eyes empty. “I just…I’m not Rex. We all lost everything, and this is how he copes. By devoting himself fully to an impossible variety of tasks. I did that too, at first, and I forgot who I was. Why I was fighting. I wouldn’t be here without Rex.”

Cody felt his anger flare at Wolffe’s admission of pain. Somewhere in his mind, he could hear Ben saying that holding onto anger was like taking poison and expecting someone else to die, but he ignored that. 

“We’re gonna get Palpatine for this, you know.” Cody knew Wolffe enjoyed some healthy revenge.

“Y-yeah,” Wolffe couldn’t hide the shiver in his voice.

It wasn’t particularly cold out.

“You with us, Wolffe?” Cody was on the alert, attention focused on Wolffe’s form in the darkness. 

Wolffe sniffled hard, taking deep, practiced, shuddering breaths. Gregor was at his side in moments, grounding and guiding him. 

“Sorry, I just, he’s gone, right? You made it sound like-”

Kark.

“I thought you knew.” Surely Rex knew. “It was on the holonews, even the Imperial channels.” Cody studied Wolffe’s reaction, ensuring Wolffe could handle what he was about to hear before continuing. “About five standard months ago, the _demagolka_’s cell was found empty.”

Wolffe howled in rage, sending the thin-skinned, sharp-clawed creatures that roamed the dusty surface flopping back into their burrows. Gregor and Cody managed to drag Wolffe inside, cursing Palpatine and the Republic and the Empire and the galaxy and the planet all the way.

“Maybe it’s time you get off this planet,” Cody suggested. “It’s kriffing depressing.” He’d been there for 16 standard days and still wasn’t used to the perpetual darkness. Rex had been here much longer and claimed he’d grown accustomed to it, but Cody knew when Rex was lying.

“Where? Where would we go?” Wolffe sounded desperate.

“Utapau, Tatooine, Manda, Ryloth, Mandalore, Concord Dawn,” Cody listed planets where he knew family lived.

“Cody, I can’t face him again.” Somehow, even Wolffe’s cybernetic eye looked haunted.

Cody was smart, and Wolffe could almost see the gears turning in his head as he worked out what that meant. 

“You can’t face Palpatine?” Cody asked softly.

“He took everything from me. My body, my mind, my pack, Plo _buir_ , I- I can’t fight him, I’ll freeze. If he’s still out there, how can we- ?” Wolffe was gasping for breath.

“No one said you have to face him. If it comes to that, I’ll do it for you. You’re not alone, Wolffe.”

Wolffe looked like he was having a hard time believing that.

“We’re not alone, and I can prove it. I personally know at least 250 clones who have been living free at least since the start of this year, and if the team on Kamino has any luck, there will be more coming.”

“You really think we stand a chance?”

“I don’t know. But I think there are a lot of good people, people like us, who won’t go down without a fight.”

Wolffe gradually calmed down as Gregor placed bite-sized pieces of something minty-smelling in his mouth, one at a time. 

“Yeah. Yeah. We’re Kamino’s finest, we don’t go down without a fight,” Wolffe told himself.

“I’m gonna talk to Rex when he gets back,” Cody stated, unsettled by how Rex had apparently been keeping the others literally and figuratively in the dark. “You wanna join? Or have me tell him anything from you?”

Wolffe chewed his words before settling on “maybe.”

“I think…I think you need help, and as amazing as Rex is, he can’t do everything by himself. You don’t deserve to be stuck here, alone. There’s so much more to this galaxy.”

“It’s almost time for the Festival of Stars,” Gregor interjected.

No one replied to that. 

“Festival of Stars? Coming up at the end of the month. It’s an interplanetary celebration of space travel and technology. Many sentients visit new planets for fun.”

“We know, Gregor.”

“We should get out! Go somewhere bright and warm.”

Wolffe had that haunted look in his eyes again, probably remembering a relief mission spent somewhere bright and warm that had nearly ended in death by boredom.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” Cody said. “I think it would do us all good. Zeltros was weird, but fun. Maybe we could go to Glee Anselm, or Iloh, or Scarif…”

“What did you say?” Rex had returned.

“Hello to you, too," Wolffe snapped back.

"Just talking ‘bout possible vacation spots, what’s got you so on edge?” Gregor prodded.

“Never mind.” Rex relaxed minutely.

“Yeah, about that, we need to talk,” Cody stepped into Rex’s path.

Rex matched Cody’s glare, as hard and unyielding as _wroshyr_. Neither one was going to back down, so it was Wolffe who broke the standoff.

“Why didn’t you tell us that Palpatine escaped?” Wolffe asked, uncharacteristically vulnerable but straight to the point as ever.

Rex’s defensive glare turned hurt, then incredulous, then angry as it cycled rapidly between Wolffe and Cody.

“What did you do?” Rex growled, not quite making eye contact with Cody.

“It was an accident. We were just talking, I thought they knew. Answer Wolffe.” Cody was being as patient as he could, but knew exactly where this was going. Rex didn’t snap often, but when he did…

“You don’t get to order me around anymore-”

“Rex.” Now Wolffe was angry too. 

“I did it to protect you, Wolffe, you know that.” 

“D-d’you ever think, maybe, I want to be able to protect myself again?” Wolffe stuttered.

Neither Wolffe nor Rex said anything for a while, entangled in their emotions as they remained locked in their tense orbits around their common center of gravity. Their strained expressions said it all: love, hate, understanding, and hurt.

“I can’t…I can’t stay here,” Wolffe breathed.

“Wolffe.”

“Don’t start. Cody’s right, I need professional help, and that’s not something I can get here. I won’t blame you for doing your best, but you can’t keep me here.”

Rex looked about ready to cry. Instead of replying to Wolffe, he turned on Cody.

“Did you put him up to this?”

“Do you honestly believe Wolffe would ever let me put words in his mouth?” Cody retorted.

“What about you, Gregor?”

“Me?” Gregor squeaked, not having spoken a word since things got heated.

“Do you want to leave, too?”

“I, well, I was just saying, if we’re going on vacation, now’s a good time. There are lots of good travel deals during the Festival of Stars, and yeah, I’d like to see some new planets.”

“We’re not going on vacation,” Rex gritted, fists clenching in irritation.

“Well, why not? It’s not like we have to be here. If you have to work, that’s fine, but it would be more fun if you joined us.”

“Gregor, you can’t- We can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Cody interjected.

“We’re in hiding, we have to lay low, clones can’t just go on vacation,” Rex spat in frustration.

"Is that what you've been telling them? Because it's not true," Cody continued, earning a hard glare from Rex.

“I did it. 17 _vode_ and I bought a ship so we could go on vacation to Zeltros, and by the time we got there, we were 23. Oh, and there were some nat-born stormtroopers, but we got rid of them. Took like six months, and I accidentally adopted as many kids, but we did it.”

“Reckless.”

“Ok, to be fair, none of us knew the Empire existed when we left. Irresponsible, maybe, but not reckless.”

“Then go. Go be irresponsible elsewhere. I love you, but I don’t appreciate you showing up out of nowhere and interfering with my plans, I had everything under control before-”

“No you didn’t!” Gregor squawked inelegantly. “Remember when those local police showed up demanding bribe money? You can’t lie for kark!”

“I didn’t see you trying to help,” Rex muttered lowly, words clearly enunciated but just barely audible. 

“Look, I woulda helped if I could, but you never tell us anything! How was I supposed to know our cover story?” Gregor laughed. He was just stating the facts as he observed them, unaware of the smoothness that overcame the brown of Rex’s eyes whenever he felt lost, overwhelmed, or exhausted. 

To Wolffe and Cody, it was clear as day. Something was wrong, and it was bigger than Rex's fear of actually enjoying himself for once.

“Gregor, stop,” Wolffe ordered his brother, who was still listing off incidents that couldn’t have been wholly Rex’s fault. 

“ _Kih’vod_ , what’s going on?” Cody asked, ready to comfort Rex like he’d done countless times when they were cadets- kids, he corrected.

“I’ve been reassigned to Scarif,” Rex heaved. 

“Ok. And?” Rex was probably conflicted about his duty as caretaker to Wolffe and Gregor and his duty to the Rebellion, but Cody waited for Rex to put it into words on his own.

“I can’t do this alone, but you’re right,” Rex turned to Wolffe and Gregor with wide eyes, “I can’t ask you to come with me.”

Wolffe shrugged and gestured towards Cody.

“You won’t be alone. None of us want to leave you alone, right?”

“Why do you think I stayed here so long? I really miss daylight, you know?” Gregor whined. 

“Not a good time,” Wolffe grumbled through gritted teeth. 

“We can go to Manda. It’s close to Scarif, and I even have a place there. Lotsa brothers live there, too. Maybe you can form a task force.” Cody began throwing ideas around, hoping Rex would catch on and work through whatever was stalling him.

Rex didn’t say anything.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Sounds way too good to be true. I can’t just take other peoples’ word for something anymore.”

“Rex. Hey. It’s me. You can trust me.”

“Where were you when I needed you?” Rex’s voice was small, but steady. He was being strong for Cody.

“Utapau.” Cody sighed, realizing trust wasn't going to be enough for Rex. He still deserved an honest apology. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I was really badly injured, then I got all distracted with gaining citizenship and getting adopted, and helping the 212th get jobs and partners and kids and whatnot, then we went on vacation but then we had to get our chips out and then I happened to run into Kenobi and I might have forcibly adopted Luke, then there was that whole thing with the gene therapy..."

It was a heartfelt confession, and Rex was looking at Cody like he'd grown a second head.

"I swear I’m not making this up. I have a good life out there, and so do hundreds of other clones. You can have that, too. Don’t you want to live free?”

“Not yet.”

Ridiculous saint.

“Fine, later? Just the other day, you were so excited about the opportunities the aging treatment opens up.”

“I meant more in the sense of after I finish this mission.”

“Of course. But first, you gotta start the mission. We’re going to Manda. Wolffe can start therapy, and Gregor can see the sun, and you and I can strategize. Everyone’s happy.”

Uncertainty was not a very good look on Rex, and yet it persisted. Rex was still wholly convinced that everyone in the galaxy but the three other clones in the room was out to get him.

“Rex’ika, I can’t pretend to know what you’ve been through since the war ended, but I can see your fear. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, and I’m gonna make it up to you.”

“Cody, you don’t have to-”

“I can, and I will. And you're not gonna take my word for it, 'cos I'm gonna prove it.”

Rex raised an eyebrow, a hopeful twinkle in his eyes, and accepted the challenge with a firm handshake. It was a competition now, so they had to see it through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is after an entire hecking month. i've been busy making pants.


	39. Manda, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Rex's cringeworthy first crush and kids being scathingly honest

With his brother’s nagging, Rex scrambled to get off-world and ended up calling in a favor with a group of people he’d worked with before. Rex insisted, without any provocation, that they were definitely not space pirates: just a crew that happened to frequent shadowports and sometimes liberated cargo from the Empire when it was convenient. Rex’s brothers didn’t care about the details, because interestingly enough, one of the crew members had taken a rather obvious interest in the bearded commander.

His name was Tanz, and he was handsome, cheeky, and not subtle at all. The way his advances seemed to actually fluster Rex had all three of his brothers snickering. Rex’s reddened ears and pining gazes were a welcome change from his uncharacteristic volatility over the last few days, but that didn’t mean Cody wasn’t counting down the hours until they’d be free from the awkward display.

Rex avoided his brothers, knowing full well what kind of teasing they were capable of. What Rex didn’t know was that all three of them were so shocked by this turn of events that they hadn’t even been considering teasing.

“I didn’t know he had it in him” Wolffe watched in wonder as Rex physically shrunk under Tanz’s flirtations.

“This is too painful to watch,” Gregor remarked from where his head rested on the table.

“Should we step in? I mean, is he ok?” Cody worried.

Rex was _giggling_.

“Oh my gods.” Wolffe stood up and excused himself.

Captain Rami entered the passenger lounge just as Wolffe was leaving, rolling her eyes at the scene in front of her.

“Tanz,” she snapped, “go reorganize the port-side supply closet. Now.”

Tanz pouted rather cutely, and swayed his hips far more than necessary as he made his exit. Rex took the opportunity to openly admire the contrast of his smooth dark skin against the light fabric of his perfectly fitted trousers and the way his long hair, so neatly arranged around his horns, swayed at his back with every step. Cody, Gregor and Rami exchanged weary, baffled looks.

“Look, I can’t exactly order Rex around like that since he’s paying me, but can you guys maybe do something about…that?” Rami leaned in close to the table and whispered urgently.

“I wish I knew how,” Cody admitted. “I’ve never seen Rex act like that.”

“Maybe he just needs to get laid,” Gregor sighed.

Cody and Rami shuddered at the thought.

“Yeah. No. Not on my ship.”

“Then I’m afraid the remainder of this trip is gonna continue to be awkward,” Gregor sing-songed.

Cody thunked his head on the table as Wolffe rushed back in, informing Rami that her first mate was not working and had instead been asking him intrusive questions on how to get closer to Rex. She stormed off in a huff, leaving the three brothers to commiserate once again.

“How would you answer that?” Gregor wondered aloud.

“What?”

“Rex has never shown an interest in romance before, how would you even give someone advice about how to win him over?”

“I don’t know, Gregor, that’s why I told him to kriff off and tattled to his Captain.”

“It got me thinking, though. I don’t really know what Rex likes. We’ve lived together for almost four years, and I hardly know him at all. That’s kinda sad,” Gregor set his face in his hands with wide, forlorn eyes.

“Oh.” Wolffe pondered that. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve known him longer, but we never really talked about that personal kind of stuff during the war. He was way too straight-laced to fraternize with civilians.”

“And you?”

“I had my fair share of fraternization, thank you very much,” Wolffe bragged with a cheeky grin.

“Ohoho, someone’s a rebel. I can’t remember having any ‘relations’ when I was still in the army. It wasn’t allowed, and I feel like I wouldn’t have gotten away with it.”

“What can I say? My dad was cool. I forgot you two got stuck with the Negotiator.”

“Who?” Gregor asked.

“You know, the guy who was all like ‘attachments are forbidden’ but flirted with all his enemies and also the Duchess of Mandalore?” Wolffe elaborated.

“…My dad?”

Cody snapped out of his mission planning at the ridiculousness of Gregor's question.

"General Kenobi. Gods, no, he’s not your dad,” He huffed. “You know, he threw all that ‘no attachments’ stuff out the airlock when the Jedi Order disbanded. We’re sort of dating, I think.”

Wolffe whistled in approval. “Cody snagged a General. _Kandosii_.”

Cody smiled a bit at that, despite himself.

“Wonder what Rex’s General was like about that kind of thing,” Wolffe mercifully changed the subject.

“Seriously? General ‘Worst Kept Secret Marriage Ever’ Skywalker?" The nickname needed work, but Cody figured it was at least accurate. "I think the only reason he didn’t talk about that kind of stuff with Rex is because he probably just assumed Rex was a prude and didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“Wait, Skywalker was married?”

“Wolffe. Everyone knew that.”

“I didn’t.”

“You don’t count, Gregor.”

“And Skywalker was Rex’s dad?”

“Kark no. The only dad among the Jedi was Koon. Besides, Skywalker was like 10,” Wolffe explained.

“23,” Cody corrected. "He was knighted at 20 and-"

“Whatever. He was a baby General. Definitely not a father figure.”

“He had kids, you know.”

“Don’t remind me. I can’t believe he, out of everyone, was the one with the stable relationship. Kinda like how I can’t believe that you, out of all of us, is the only one in any relationship. Explain to me why you can’t give Rex some pointers?”

“Ok, yeah, you have a point. Where is that _di’kut_ anyways?”

_“REX!” Wolffe bellowed, as per his customary way of summoning his brothers. Gregor didn’t even flinch._

Rex materialized with a solemn look on his face and sat himself down without prompting.

“Rex.”

“Bro. You gotta stop that. You’re killing us,” Wolffe accused.

“Fight me. This wasn’t in the flash training,” Rex sighed.

“‘M not gonna fight you. We just thought we should be good older brothers and not stand around watching you suffer,” Wolffe physically pulled Cody into the conversation with an arm around his shoulders. “Tell ‘im how it’s done.”

“Where’s Turbo when you need him?” Cody said, suddenly not feeling so confident.

“I’m actually glad it’s you and not Turbo,” Rex chuckled nervously.

“I’m just gonna repeat what Lark told me. Basically, Ben said he’s been in love with me for years, and for whatever reason it made me kinda uncomfortable. I’m guessing you might be feeling something like that right now. She told me, ‘he’s not asking you to marry him.’ You're allowed to want and return his attention, and it doesn’t hurt anyone to try, as long as you both communicate. If it doesn’t work out, it’s not the end of the world, and it doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“Yeah, and you know what does hurt people? All this unresolved sexual tension!” Gregor hollered.

“ _Ne’johaa_ ,” Wolffe murmured coldly, fitting a hand firmly over Gregor’s mouth.

“That’s not gonna work, ‘cos I don’t know what that means!” Gregor insisted, his voice muffled.

“You’re smart. Figure it out.” Wolffe was gazing intently at Rex and Cody, urging them to continue, unyielding even as Gregor licked his hand.

“So, uh, do you like this guy? I’ve actually never seen you act like this so your behavior could technically mean anything.”

“He makes me laugh. Always has,” Rex admitted.

“Ok, that’s good. Maybe you should tell him, I bet he’d appreciate that. You know, that you think about him and don’t just passively accept his attention then forget about him when he’s not there. He might be the super confident type who won’t stop unless you tell him no, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have feelings.”

“Ok. I can do that.”

“And remember, you can say no. To anything, at any time.”

“Maybe I don’t want to?” Rex made an attempt at bravado.

“Then say yes? Say something? Communication, bro. It’s important,” Gregor interjected.

That much had been covered in flash training. Rex huffed in annoyance, because his General’s idea of communication had been ‘throw Rex off a cliff, explain later.’

Cody snapped his fingers to get Rex’s attention. He had that look on his face that meant he was thinking about General Skywalker.

“Hey. Don’t project your insecurities on this guy, he didn’t ask for that, and he’s never thrown you off a cliff…right?”

“Yeah.” Rex’s awareness was clearly elsewhere.

“Next time he says something to you, reciprocate, ok? Show him you’re not _utreekov_. I’ll give you whatever advice I can but I’m not gonna hold your hand through this.”

“That’s fair.”

“Now go talk to him!” Gregor ushered. “Save us all a massive headache. Watching you guys earlier caused me actual physical pain, you know. Which is why I recorded it, so I can play the footage at your wedding.”

“Delete it. Now.” Wolffe ordered. “You are not subjecting anyone to that. Also, are you sure you didn’t just forget your pain meds again?”

Gregor whined a bit, but didn’t stop Wolffe from deleting the footage. Thinking back to his conversation with Lark, Cody decided to smear one last but of wisdom on Rex’s preoccupied mind.

“You deserve love. To be happy, and have fun. Not later, after you’ve finished whatever monumental task you’ve made for yourself, but when the opportunity arises. Now. You might not get later.”

“I know,” Rex didn't need reminding that 'later' was not a guarantee. For a second, he looked so young. A scared teenager in the body of an adult man.

“I know you know. Just, don’t forget it. I did the same thing until Lark stopped me.” Satisfied that he’d done his job as _ori’vod_ , Cody smiled encouragingly.

Later, after third meal, Rex and Tanz left the mess hall holding hands, and the entire crew released a long held breath.

—-

Rex, Wolffe, Gregor, and Cody arrived on Manda on the first day of the week-long Festival of Stars. Manda wasn’t Corellia or Kuat, but it still had plenty of ships to boast about. Entire fleets of mint-condition starships on display filled the skies, constraining actual traffic to a scant few space lanes. Cody was at least able to fast-track their landing at the Archives once they’d finally cleared planetary customs, alerting all the _vode_ on the surface of his unexpected return. Their welcome was as memorable as any starship display: laughing, hollering, whirling embraces, and, for some reason, glitter.

Tanz, who had opted to go dirtside to spend one last night with Rex, apparently hadn’t realized that Rex had more than three brothers, and stood in slack-jawed joy as he took in the clones’ antics. Rex, too, was expressing his joy through shining eyes as he reconnected with troopers he’d thought long lost. Cody would say I told you so later, for now he had a mission.

Cody affectionately punched the arms of every clone he encountered on his way to the comms center, even striking up a brief conversation with Turbo that had the other racing to see Rex’s new “boyfriend” for himself. Cody nearly turned around to rescue Rex from potential embarrassment, but remembered what he’d said earlier: he would not hold Rex’s hand as he navigated his love life. Rex was an adult, he’d just have to deal with Turbo himself.

Cody had a mission. He commed Kyrimorut, and it was Zo’dira who picked up.

“Hi, Cody!” he said, through a few newly missing teeth. Cody hoped that was normal for his age and species and not the result of him emulating the rowdiness of his brothers and Mandalorians in general.

“Hey, Zodi!” They did their secret handshake through the hologram. “Sorry I couldn’t comm any sooner, I just want you to know that my mission was successful and I’m ok.”

“Cool.”

“Where’s your mom?”

“I dunno. But hey, check this out!” The hologram blinked out as Zo’dira disappeared from the camera’s view, then re-emerged wearing a head covering of flexible scales covering his lekku and the distinctive visor of a Mandalorian  _buy’ce_.

“Wow,” Cody successfully kept the envy out of his voice. “Where’d you learn that?”

“Auntie Arla! She’s helping me forge my  _beskar'gam_ since I’m almost 13!”

“I take it you’ve settled in well, I’m glad. How are your siblings?”

“Ili doesn’t like it here. She doesn’t wanna be Mandalorian. Also, people keep calling Miyana _ara’vod_, like it’s a bad thing. Echo told me what it means. It doesn’t make any sense. A lot of people here are clones, why should anyone care if you and your _vod_ are the same?”

“I don’t know,” Cody sighed. “I’m sorry they had to deal with that. You know, if you guys aren’t happy there we can find somewhere else safe. I was just in a hurry when I sent you there, it was the only place I knew of.”

“Yeah. I like it though, and I think Uli does too, even though she won’t admit it. Did you know there’s a Jedi here? He’s been teaching us things.”

“ _Mando jetii_ , huh? You’re gonna be unstoppable, kid.”

Zodi grinned wide, though his gap-toothed smile fell when he heard commotion from beyond the holocam’s range. Then, Uli elbowed her way in front of her brother, complaining that he hadn’t even told her Cody was calling.

“I did tell you, you didn’t answer!” the twi’lek insisted from the floor, his voice cracking.

“Hey, Cody,” Uli said glumly.

“What’s the matter, _ad_?”

“I thought you’d forgotten about me.” There was a dark, moody glint in her usually iridescent blue eyes.

“Never. This is just the first time I’ve been able to get a secure connection in a few weeks. I missed you.”

“Hmph.”

“I’ll come visit you soon, ok? I found my brothers, you guys can meet them.”

“Sounds like you care about your brothers more than you care about us. You have so many of them. What’s so special about a few more?”

“Uli, that’s mean!” Zo’dira interrupted.

Cody pinched his nose.

“Look, I’m sorry, I’m not the best at being a dad. I can understand why you feel like that, and I’m gonna do my best to make it up to you.”

“You’re not my dad. Echo’s a better dad than you, he looks like you but he’s nicer and he doesn’t leave for months without calling.”

“That hurts, Uli,” Cody admitted a bit sarcastically.

“Maybe I wanted it to hurt.” She turned and left then, but apparently told the others that he was on the comm for they rapidly took her place.

“She’s been really mean like that lately. Mama says it’s because she’s 12. I don’t get it, I’m 12 and I’m not like that,” Zo’dira explained.

Rola opened her mouth silently, but Miyana spoke before she could.

“It’s ok,” they said, “she found Arla. Arla always makes her feel better.”

“Who’s Arla?” Cody asked. He hadn’t met any Arlas when he’d visited.

“Your aunt?” Ili answered.

“Jango Fett’s sister?” Miyana clarified.

“I had no idea she was still alive. Huh. Rex will wanna hear about this.”

“Who’s Rex?” Zo'dira mirrored Cody.

“My brother. Echo knows him, too.

“How many brothers do you even have?” Ili asked excitedly.

“Too many to count. So many that I haven’t even met them all. Ask Tech, he could probably give you an accurate estimate.”

“I’m gonna do that,” Ili said with determination, then left the room with a skip in her step.

“Hello, Cody. Long time no see,” Rola’s voice wavered, as nervous as ever.

“It’s good to see you, too. Has my family been treating you well?”

“Er, yes…”

“Mama’s in love with Echo,” Miyana blurted in unison.

Zo’dira gagged in mock embarrassment, Miyana cackled and Rola looked anywhere but at Cody.

“Um. Ok. Anyways, can I talk to you? Doesn’t have to be now, but, you know, grown-up stuff.”

“Um, of course,” Rola motioned for the children to leave the room.

“Cody, don’t listen to Uli, ok? You can still be my dad,” Zo’dira said urgently.

“I’m honored. I’ll talk to you later, ok?”

“Ok,” he waved mournfully, as if unsure that Cody wasn’t secretly upset, then left the room and closed the door silently.

“Grown-up stuff? Rola asked, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“I have another mission, and it could be dangerous.”

“You and your danger. Is this about the inheritance fund?”

“Yes. Is everything…”

“Don’t worry about that. Your brothers are remarkably efficient. I just wish you would call and tell me about something other than imminent danger.”

“I know. Me too. One day, I’m gonna retire, I swear, but I have to do this.”

“And I won't stop you.” She sighed. “You are so like Keebo. Don’t die.”

“Thanks. You know, I’ve never had the luxury of planning ahead like this. It’s almost exciting.”

“You’re weird, Cody. Don’t you dare get reckless. I don’t want your inheritance money, understand? I want you back here, alive. Then we can talk about being Zodi’s father.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Cody commed Ben next, but he didn’t answer. That could mean he was asleep, or doing Jedi business. Cody did the next best thing and entrusted Ben with delivering Leia’s message to Luke: a drawing that most likely only the two of them would understand.

If he died on this mission, it would be with fewer regrets than any potential last mission he’d had before. It was time to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thought I had while editing: like Mark Hamill, Wolffe was too busy being beautiful to notice his co-stars Anakin and Padmé having an affair.


	40. Manda, 7962 C.R.C. / 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions of sex, angst and trauma re: plo koon, the plot thickens

Cody had been right, Rex realized, as he lay enveloped in dark tranquility. Tanz’s chest rose and fell beneath his head, warm and completely at ease despite the sweat that still clung to their bodies. The evening had been everything Rex could have hoped for and more, so why was he so tense?

“What’s on your mind?” Tanz’s voice rumbled, deep and intoxicating, as his fingers smoothed tingling paths through Rex’s short hair.

Rex couldn’t help the way his breath hitched.

“I can’t…I can’t do this,” Rex choked on the words. He knew it was true, but it felt wrong to say.

“Hm,” Tanz hummed sadly, pressing a kiss so soft to the top of Rex’s head that he had the commander melting all over again.

“Please,” Rex’s voice broke.

“What can I do to help?” The fact that Tanz was so genuinely concerned, so eager and willing to ease Rex’s monumental burdens, so naive…was heartbreaking.

“You’re going to get hurt if you stay close to me,” Rex said.

“Sweetheart, you assume too much.” Tanz’s words were teasing, but he was dead serious. He wasn't about to let this wonderful person suffer alone.

Tanz shifted under Rex, who reluctantly let him up. 

"Look at me, Rex. I'm fine. I can handle myself. Now, let me take care of you," Tanz ventured boldly, and  left Rex speechless with a kiss and a promise to be right back.

Rex snuggled into the warmth he left behind. Not wanting to be left alone with his thoughts, he reached for his datapad.

The device lit up with six new messages from Cody. Data files: increased surveillance on the Manda merchant route, a new planetary shield around the planet Scarif, Imperial reports on Kamino’s clone production with Cody’s own notes. A seventh notification appeared as Rex was piecing the new information with what he already knew, and he couldn’t help but smile. It was kriffing 0350, and Cody was doing what Cody was wont to do. This was just the distraction Rex needed from this…this post orgasmic onslaught of complicated emotions.

“Hey,” Rex greeted Tanz easily when he returned after 15 minutes, fully dressed and carrying two cups of something that smelled sweet and invigorating. Rex turned to his side as he placed the datapad on the floor, laughing quietly as he caught sight of Tanz, with his perfectly styled hair, doing a little dance to remove his shoes while both hands were still occupied.

“Let me,” Rex offered his hands to hold the drinks.

“Feeling better?”

“A bit. I guess I just needed some perspective.”

“Well, I brought you this. It’s called _amarandi_ , I like to drink it when I’m homesick. Wolffe and Turbo said you guys like sweet things.”

Just like that, the emotions were back. Rex took a sip to stop himself from confessing his undying love. It was tangy, definitely sweet, and even seemed to clear his head a bit.

“Thank you.” Rex cradled the drink to his naked chest, rocking himself where he sat on the bed.

“May I?” Tanz motioned to the bed and Rex nodded. Tanz shucked off his clothes one-handed and practically flung himself back into bed, somehow managing not to spill his drink.

“So, um. About what you said earlier. This doesn’t have to continue past tonight. Or it can. Believe it or not, I understand where you’re coming from, not wanting others to get hurt. It’s why I chose to leave my homeworld.”

“Oh,” Rex hadn’t known any of that. 

“Galaxy’s a rough place, Rex. If you need to go your own way, I get it. Nothing personal. All I know is that you make me happy and I think I make you happy, too. So even if it’s just for tonight, thank you.”

“You do make me happy. I want you to keep being happy, and alive, far away from the Empire and all this…” Rex motioned vaguely at space.

“You sayin’ I should move to Firefist?” Tanz rubbed Rex’s arm soothingly.

“I’m sure they have their own problems,” Rex laughed quietly.

Tanz finished his drink, took both their glasses, and went to the ‘fresher to clean his perfect teeth. 

“You really think the Empire’s that bad?” Tanz asked sleepily Rex joined him in the fresher.

Rex pulled Tanz close, shielding him from the dangers of the galaxy. 

“You have no idea.”

—- 

“Morning, Rex,” Cody teased as his brother arrived at the archives well past noon.

Rex nodded curtly and handed Cody a stack of datapads, on which he had conducted his own research. 

“You ok?” Cody asked, noting how Rex had likely spent the last 12 hours burying his emotions with work.

“No.”

“Need me to beat anyone up?”

“No.”

“You know, I got Wolffe scheduled for therapy, I’m sure I could find some for you, too.”

“It’s not that…”

“Rex, even I have PTSD, and I didn’t experience order 66-”

“I know. Later. I just had the best night of my life and then had to tell Tanz to stay far away from me for his own safety. I’m upset, ok?”

“Damn. I’m sorry. How did he take it?”

“Cody. He kriffing told me to call him if I ever need rescuing.” Rex guffawed at the memory, the sound one of frustrated amusement.

“I’m no expert, but I think he’s a keeper.”

“Maybe. Guess I’ll find out later. Let’s get to work.”

“Alright. What’s the mission, anyways?”

“You know how Darkknell has a lot of iridium?” 

“…Yes?” 

“It’s one of their main exports. They have all sorts of contracts with mining guilds and intergalactic manufacturers, always have, but according to the rebel group I’d been monitoring, the government started getting real secretive about who they were exporting to. 

“I did some investigating. Nothing really looks out of place to an offworlder; the major buyers are who you’d expect: Kuat Driveyards, Rothana, Sienar. But the locals said the expenses don’t add up, and Senator Organa confirmed it. It’s not just Darkknell, it’s Kessel, Corellia, Lothal, Kuat, Geonosis, Jedha. A substantial amount of raw material is being diverted somewhere, and Alliance intelligence just traced one of the buyers to Scarif of all places. Something’s up.”

“What do you need to do?”

“If they follow protocol, they’re likely about to set up a navy exclusion zone in the Scarif system. I need someone on the ground before that happens, and it might as well be me. As far as I can tell, the Empire never changed the security protocols that you and I invented. If it’s us, I’m sure we can get past the shield.”

“That’s true, but then what? They’ll be expecting a high-ranking Imperial officer, and they _will_ recognize you.”

“You’re sure?”

“The Imperial higher-ups are a lot of the same people we worked with. Tarkin, Krennic, Yularen, people who would definitely recognize a clone and treat you as a deserter, and that’s before they realize who you are.”

“That’s out, then.”

“Can you fake maintenance or delivery landing permits?”

“I don’t know, that’s not military. What are you thinking?”

“Manda’s the only major merchant’s hub around here. If they’re getting any kind of shipments, which I’m sure they are since Scarif is tiny and in the middle of nowhere, they’ll come through here. What if I got you in the pilot’s seat of a legitimate supply transport?”

“How do you propose that?”

“Baobab merchant fleet’s always hiring.”

—-

One professionally procured fake ID, Cody pulling some strings, and a piloting test later, Rex was a delivery pilot. All that was left to do was wait for the right opportunity, which he did with practiced determination, often assuming the same pose that he did when pacing the bridge of the _Resolute_. 

As Rex clung ferociously to his sense of duty, his brothers lived. 

Cody had done his research: Wolffe’s cerean therapist was highly empathetic, knowledgeable, and the first living being to hear Wolffe’s story. He never thought he’d tell anyone, let alone someone who was not a clone, but doctor Thol-Kur-Dak had presented him with a challenge: to fight his traumas and win. 

Despite having repressed his memories for years, they were even more painfully clear in retrospect. Wolffe hadn’t been able to process what was happening at the time. The chip had translated his every impulse into righteous rage; his entire being into a force of destruction, which he’d turned against his father and then against his traitorous brothers. Those traitorous brothers had held him down in the chaos of a winning battle turned fratricidal. Communications were gone, the General was dying, and the 442nd and 104th had inexplicably turned on one another. They hadn’t been able to save Plo.

Wolffe hadn’t understood until he was awake and lost on the cold operating table, his chip gone but his head empty instead of clear.

His therapist guided him through the terror of losing his mind with logic and patience, even giving him direct orders to disobey to prove that with the chip gone, he was in control. The two spent countless hours considering and debating every alternate possibility that Wolffe could come up with. Fighting was the one thing Wolffe would always be able to do,and Thol-Kur-Dak’s sharp binary brain gave him plenty to wrestle with. In time, Wolffe did feel like he was winning, and it solidified his belief in Plo Koon’s dying words: ‘this was never your fault.’ 

He still had dreams, ones where he sometimes felt the heat of a burning Jedi starfighter, or the breathlessness that came with 120 kilograms of fully-armored trooper smashing him into the ground. However it began, the 442nd always found Plo first, suffocating on oxygen even as they pulled him from the acidic oceans.

Sometimes, in his dreams, his father’s deep and comforting voice cut through the confusion to tell him: ‘I forgive you.’ ‘I love you.’ ‘This is not your doing.’ Wolffe knew it wasn’t a memory: Plo wouldn’t have been able to speak clearly with how his badly antiox mask had been damaged. However, Thol-Kur-Dak commended him for noticing how his dreams changed. They told him it was a sign that his mind was learning how to cope with the new reality brought on by Wolffe processing his grief. 

Wolffe wasn’t certain he believed in the cosmic force or any sort of afterlife, but he allowed himself the fantasy that Plo was speaking to him through his dreams. That was a secret he’d take to the grave. If nothing else, the dreams allowed him to finally say what he couldn’t back then, and for that he was thankful. 

“Thank you,” he told his father, “Thank you for everything. I’m sorry we didn’t have more time together. I’ll see you again when I march on.”

Wolffe symbolically painted his armor red and gray, ironically the same colors he’d worn during the war. Mourning and honoring. He wore it with pride, and the others noticed.

“Wolffe’s got his _shereshoy_ back,” Sarad observed fondly.

“What?” was Gregor’s customary reply.

“I um. I don’t know how to translate that, it’s like lust for life?”

“Oh, _shereshoy_ , I actually know that one. I thought you said ‘search and destroy.’”

“Gregor, when’s the last time you had your hearing checked?” Sarad asked, slowly and clearly.

“Never?”

“Come with me.”

—-

Gregor had known for a long time that he was hard of hearing, but he and his brothers had never known what to do about it. Nowhere before had there been medical professionals that three clones could trust, but here, some of the doctors were clones themselves. Being on Manda not only granted Gregor access to hearing aids, but hearing aids in a variety of colors.

“Do I pick orange or blue?” Gregor asked Sarad anxiously.

“Why not both?”

Gregor’s face lit up with delight at the realization that he did in fact have two ears, which were soon enhanced with the turquoise of a commando’s visor and 212th gold. He was beaming when he flaunted his new gear to Wolffe, both of them now having reclaimed their colors. 

It was exhausting work, rediscovering all the small sounds that the world made. Gregor assumed he’d known what every sound was before, but once again he was forced to start from scratch. 

“You’re like a baby,” Wolffe said as he carried Gregor on his shoulders.

“No I’m not, I’m older than you.”

“Debatable. I meant like…your brain is doing the baby thing. Cataloguing stuff. You’re probably gonna have some wacky dreams.”

Wolffe set his brother back on his own feet and opened the door to their new quarters, where Rex and Cody were planning away as usual.

“I’m gonna turn in early. Hearing things is tiring,” Gregor explained.

Rex and Cody merely acknowledged the others with a nod.

“Guess this means you won’t be sleeping through any more explosions?” Wolffe teased.

“Ooh, I don’t know, I mean Sarad said I’m not supposed to wear them to sleep, but I wonder what would happen if I did. Let’s test it.”

“No,” Rex and Cody said in unison.

“Nothing gets past those guys,” Gregor sighed in mock complaint.

Rex had gone still, watching Wolffe and Gregor goofing off and making a game out of getting ready for bed, like the kids they were never allowed to be. Cody paused as well, waiting for Rex.

“They’re gonna be ok,” Rex said with a calm certainty.

“Yeah. They are.”

“Wow,” Rex breathed, in shock and relief.

“I know the feeling,” Cody smiled.


	41. Manda Merchant Route, 7963/14 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cody does not know how to romance, Rex needs therapy. Wolffe is dad.

The new year came and went before the mission could begin, but the wait proved fruitful. News at last came from Kamino: troopers were being rapidly deployed for either menial labor or suicide missions. Apparently, the Kaminoans no longer considered them a worthwhile investment. For Slick, this meant that helping entire battalions go missing in action was getting easier to cover up. For Rex, it meant that he probably wouldn’t be the only clone flying cargo ships.

Much of the original crew of the  _ Jate’kara  _ returned to Manda in the first week of the new year, allegedly to avoid incurring fees associated with changing one’s planet of residence. It wasn't as if any of them actually paid taxes to the Empire. Their enormous family grew even larger the next week, with the arrival of the 2392nd battalion, fresh off Kamino. 

“2392?” questioned Wolffe of the 104th. “Are they still numbering battalions chronologically? How old are you guys?”

“Nine standard, sir.”

Too young. Wolffe and the other veterans were nearly double their age: practically a generation’s difference in clone terms. 

“You got a name, kid?”

“Sticky, sir.” He smiled shyly.

“I like it.” Wolffe extended his hand for a strong handshake that had Sticky wincing. “I’m Wolffe, no need to call me sir. Hells, you can call me  _ buir  _ if you want.”

The younger clones were confused at first, but they were fast learners. The Kaminoans had forbidden the use of  _ mando’a  _ in these later batches, so they took to the language with even more vigor. Wolffe watched over all 576 of them with fatherly warmth, though he refused to admit that he truly wanted “the boys” to think of him the same way he’d thought of his general.

Wolffe was a commander to the core, and he resumed his role as guardian, mediator, mentor, trainer, and friend like he’d been starved of it. Cody, on the other hand, was retired, and very glad that his siblings were at last old enough to make their own stupid decisions. It meant he was able to give both his full support and scathing criticism when Sarad announced that he and Arya were getting married, and since neither had a family name, they would combine their first names to be Sarad and Arya Sarya. Cody hated it, but Sarad was a grown adult who could be trusted to think for himself, even when his former commanding officer threatened to disown him.

It was freeing, Cody later confided in Rex, to be able to express his own feelings and opinions without the implication that anyone acting in response to his less-than-professional rantings would be his responsibility. Rex didn’t agree, if his half-hearted shrug was any indication.

“Maybe you’d think different if that responsibility was taken from you, before anyone was ready.” 

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Being Marshal Commander meant that Cody had technically lost as many men as Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor combined over the course of the war, but it was different. Those casualties had been spread out over regiments and time, and had taken people Cody loved like family, but he hadn’t lost everyone like the others had.

“Wolffe seems to be doing really well since he’s been helping those shinies get settled. Maybe that’s what you need?”

“No,” Rex said, “I can’t handle that kind of responsibility right now.” Rex knew that many of his closest  _ vode _ were still alive and that he’d been forced to abandon them. It was almost worse than knowing he alone had survived. “Besides, we have a mission,” Rex re-focused on the one thing he could do right.

Rex soon got his chance. Cody had been right, as usual. A large shipment of foamcast was en route to Scarif via Manda, and Rex would be in the cargo ship’s pilot seat. 

Foamcast, of all things. Unglamorous, cheap, insulating, easily set up, and easily dissolved. The familiar smell alone brought back unpleasant memories: for clones, this was the smell of field hospitals. 

Without knowing any of the details, the entire facility helped Cody and Rex prepare for departure. The two clones anticipated needing to switch places, so Mey cut and colored their hair, making them look younger and even more identical than they’d ever looked before. Ebenn ‘accidentally’ misplaced an entire shipment of cargo pilots’ jumpsuits and flight gear, just so both of them would have proper uniforms. To make the long journey more pleasant, Turbo considerately gifted a novelty candle that smelled of roasted nuna. 

“Don’t you dare die and miss my wedding,” Sarad threatened Cody.

“I haven’t missed a  _ vod’ _ s wedding yet. I’m not letting this mission break my streak,” Cody grinned nervously, then hugged his brother tight.

Clones did things like this, delaying drinks and celebrations until after the next mission, to give themselves something worth staying alive for. Cody didn’t need to tell Sarad or anyone else that he now had that in abundance. A wedding was just an added bonus.

Cody and Rex finished their well-rehearsed farewells and departed on the cargo ship. The class-IV hyperdrive promised plenty of time for them to think.

“So, what do you think they’re building?” Rex asked the recycled air, bored out of his mind.

“You mean with this foamcast, or in general?” Cody didn’t look up from his datapad.

“Both, I guess. It’s kinda telling that they’d need this kind of thing, I’d assume that since Scarif is so small, they don’t actually have, say, enough wood or permacrete precursors to economically build a semi-permanent establishment. And yet they built that planetary shield gate without leaving any record of imports. With the amount of heavy metals and volcanic minerals there, it’s the perfect sort of place to build shield gates and starships in secret, at least once you have the infrastructure.” Rex was just thinking out loud.

“Starships? Did Kuat Drive stop accepting Imperial customers or something?”

“Not that I know of.”

It would be one of those improvised missions: off the record, no clear objective, and almost no intel. Just the sort that ARC training was supposed to have prepared them for.

“Kinda wish we had a Jedi with us,” Rex admitted.

“That would be nice.”

“So what’s up with you and Kenobi?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him since I left Tatooine to find you. He mentioned some kind of Jedi business.”

“Do Jedi still have business? The Order’s gone.”

“Apparently, they do. Some kind of spiritual thing. He doesn’t really tell me much.”

“Classic.” The Negotiator was a master of reticent misdirection. “Do you love him?”

“I think so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s not my general anymore, but I’d still follow him into hell. He’s amazing. I’d put up with him for the rest of my life if it meant we could make the galaxy a better place together.”

Rex frowned. That was just the type of thing for Cody to say, but after Cody’s whole spiel about Tanz and reciprocation, Rex worried that his brother wasn’t being afforded that same decency.

“You sure it’s not just hero worship?”

Cody snorted. “I cut him down to size all the time, ask any of the 212th. Ben’s a disaster, not a hero. And I still enjoy his company, I think that amounts to something.”

“Ok. I just…he’s a Jedi, or was. I worry that he might break your heart because he doesn’t know how to love.”

“I don’t know how to love, either.”

“That’s not true, Cody, you…all of us see you as family. Bacara and Bly didn’t have that.”

“Bly had General Secura,” Cody joked at the expense of the GAR’s second worst-kept secret. Commander Bly Secura, they’d called him.

“You don’t get to tell me you’re incapable of love,” Rex insisted. “If you’re happy with Ben, then I have no problem with it. I just don’t want to see you used and thrown away.”

Like so many Jedi had done to so many clones. 

Was he happy? Cody questioned himself, and Rex repeated the same question a moment later.

“I miss my  _ vode _ ,” Cody answered honestly. “More than I miss Ben, I think. I don’t understand how natborns ever willingly leave home.”

“We were just with them?” Rex questioned.

“There are more. On Utapau, and Mandalore. I haven’t actually talked to them since I left to find you, only sent urgent messages.”

“Why didn’t you call them?”

“The less they know, the better.”

Rex’s face turned dead serious in an instant as he recalled the hundreds of secure messages and money transfers to multiple systems that Cody had methodically carried out over the last few months. 

“You’ve been getting ready to die.” Rex looked appalled.

“Haven’t you?” Weren’t all clones always ready to die?

Rex didn’t see it that way. He was a survivor. For him, failure was never an option.

“Cody, I need to know that you’re with me. I can’t rely on someone with a death wish.”

“It’s not a death wish, it’s called putting your affairs in order. I have people who depend on me.”

“And you think I don’t?”

“I’m just preparing for the worst, ok? We have that luxury now. That’s a good thing.”

Rex was not convinced. He preferred to win. “No heroics,” Rex stated solemnly.

“I shall endeavor to avoid all heroics. I promise. I’m only here to cover your _ shebs. _ ”

“That’s for damn sure.”

Rex was as stubbornly, unforgivingly perfectionist as General Skywalker. It reminded Cody of his invincible past self, and it was going to get Rex killed one day.

“Once this is over, you’re going to therapy.” 

“We’re not talking about this right now,” Rex asserted.

It didn’t stop Cody from worrying. Whatever had happened to Rex had made it so he couldn’t even think about laying down his weapons and making peace with the past without losing focus of the mission. That angered Cody like nothing else, and it was the kind of anger he would expertly channel into tearing the galaxy apart to help his brother.

Yes, Rex definitely got that stubbornness from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy almost birthday to this fic


End file.
